Recompense
by radioboca
Summary: AU set during Return of the Jedi. Han and Leia are captured immediately prior to the Battle of Endor, thrusting them into an unplanned mission in the heart of the Empire.
1. Chapter 1

Recompense

Hiking back to the rest of her group, Leia had to hold back triumphant giggle. She had never been a compulsive person, had known she should have waited for orders from her commanding officer—even if that was technically Han Solo- but even though she knew she was going to get an embarrassing dressing down, it had all been worth it. She'd probably even be accused of being suicidal again, but nothing was farther from the truth. Speed made her feel alive.

She stepped nimbly over a pile of fallen branches, looking around briefly to see if Luke was nearby. They had been separated as they pursued the stormtroopers, and she had gotten the distinct sense that he enjoyed the race as much as she did. There was no sign of him, but the endorphins from her all too brief speeder ride tamped down any of her normal tendencies to worry. Surely he'd be along shortly.

As expected, Han was waiting for her back at the small clearing where they had startled the Imperials. Hands on his hips in an unconscious imitation of her own typical pose when she was preparing to unleash a scolding, the look in his eyes when she reappeared was both pure relief and pure annoyance. She deserved it, of course, but it had definitely been worth it.

"Got them," she reported with a quick nod to their other companions. "I'm pretty sure they didn't have a chance to report our presence, but their disappearance will presumably be discovered before too long. We should probably relocate."

"Where's Luke?" Han asked tightly, obviously holding his tongue until the situation was a bit more settled. Leia gave him a small smile, impressed that he was still maintaining his professionalism even though he would have been justified in screaming at her. Her lingering doubts about his qualifications to lead the operation—part of why she'd insisted on joining the team-disappeared.

"We were separated," she told him. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"You've already been gone for an hour." Han turned back to the rest of the team. "We need to find him if we're going to be able to relocate the camp before the Imps show up looking for their buddies." She could tell he was pissed, and was glad she hadn't verbalized her compliment for his leadership skills: that would not have gone over well.

Addressing the waiting commandos, who were trying to look busy while bracing themselves for an explosive argument between the newly commissioned general and the princess, Solo said, "We'll find him." He then pulled Major Derlin aside. "Take the squad ahead. We'll rendezvous at the shield generator at 0300. Leia and I will find Luke and bring him along."

Overhearing them, Chewbacca strode over, clearly expecting to accompany his longtime partner in their search for the missing Jedi. "Chewie," Han added with a sigh. "I want you to stick with the strike team." With a long look at Leia, he added, "We don't need to divert any more personnel."

"And if Luke's hurt?" Chewie grumbled in Shyriwook. Leia winced slightly, and Han realized suddenly that she'd picked up Chewie's complicated language during his many months in Jabba the Hutt's captivity. "Who will carry him? Her?"

"We'll deal with it," Han said, trying not to let his frustration show. He knew that asserting his authority in a squad containing so many of his friends would be difficult, but this was getting ridiculous fast. "Head out." After a moment of reflection, he added, "And take the droids with you." Leia smirked knowingly.

Derlin saluted, and Han returned the gesture, glad that at least someone was going to give him the respect due his rank. If this was what being an Alliance general was going to be like, he'd turn in his stripes the moment this mission was over—assuming, of course, that he was alive to do so.

"Come on," Han said to Leia, more gruffly than was truly necessary. In reality, he was glad that someone had taken the necessary initiative to take out the stormtroopers, especially since it was his fault they'd been tipped off to the Rebels' presence. But even during the short time they'd spent back with the Alliance over Sullust preparing for the current battle, it was clear that his and Leia's budding relationship was the subject of intense gossip. Her blatant disrespect for the chain of command would do little to tamp down the broadly held belief that he followed her around like a sick baby manka cat.

They set off into the forest from which Leia had emerged, Chewie's grumbles of displeasure still audible as the remainder of the strike team began trudging through the woods in the opposite direction.

"Hey," Leia said softly when they were finally out of earshot. "You giving me the silent treatment now?"

"You shouldn't have taken off like that," Han responded, refusing to look directly at her as he scanned the woods for signs of Luke. "You could have compromised the whole mission."

Abandoning her earlier resolution to let Han have his say without complaint, she scowled. "If we hadn't shot down those troopers they would have been back with a whole squad in minutes. You don't think that would have compromised the mission?"

"That should have been my decision, not yours."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have tried to sneak up on them. Of all the harebrained…"

"Do you not understand that this mission is under my command?" he asked sharply. "You didn't have to volunteer, but since you did, I expect you to follow orders like anyone else. Got it, Princess?"

She retreated slightly, taken aback by his tone. "Yes, General," she muttered finally. They walked on in silence.

Overhead, birds were tweedling brightly as they swooped into the soft beds of needles coating the forest floor, making careful selections of nesting material before heading back for the upper branches to scold the puffy tailed rodents that frolicked among the fallen branches, competing for bits of bark and berries. The air was scented with the spicy, loamy aroma of the ubiquitous conifers that stood like skyscrapers around them, shielding them from the heat of the day. Were it not for the weapons they carried, and the invisible looming presence of the Death Star above them, they might have been lovers on a hike to a hidden waterfall.

"Do you think we should call out to him?" Leia asked softly. Han pondered for a moment, accepting her silent apology for her inadvertent disrespect earlier. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"Let's see if we can find which direction he went first," Han told her. "Where did you get separated? Do you remember?"

Leia nodded. "It was right after I shot down the first trooper. Shouldn't be hard to find with all the smoking wreckage…" She grinned slyly at him, and he smiled back.

"Atta girl." He sniffed the air, noticing a faint odor of burnt metal and plastic. "That way?"

"Yeah," she agreed, releasing his hand and trotting ahead. "There."

A thin trail of smoke still rose from the wreckage of the speeder bike as Han and Leia crept up, taking care to hide themselves behind the shelter of an enormous fallen log. "Luke went off that way, and I followed the other one over there," Leia whispered, peering up to see if there was any sign of Imperials searching for their fallen comrade. So far, the forest seemed quiet. After a few minutes, Han nodded sharply in the direction she had indicated as Luke's most recent path, and they pushed on.

"Looks like he came this way," Han noted, pointing out blaster marks etched into the trees several meters up from ground level. He scrambled on top of a boulder that leaned casually against a decaying carcass of a stump, peering into the murk of the forest. "I don't see any other wrecks from here."

"How far is it to the shield generator?" Leia asked as he hopped down, brushing a spider web from his forehead.

"Depends on how far off track we get. We should be okay to keep heading this way for another couple hours."

Leia gulped. "So soon…" she whispered, closing her eyes. She was ready for the coming battle, could feel it in her bones, but she just couldn't do it without Luke. Not wanting to give Han the wrong impression by articulating her terror, she took a deep breath and turned away, swatting at the sudden tears that filled her eyes.

"Hey." Han pulled her close, not fooled for a moment. "Luke'll be fine. He's a tough kid. We'll find him."

Unable to speak, Leia just nodded and then followed Han deeper into the forest.

In spite of the cool breeze, they had both broken a good sweat after another half hour of hard walking. Suddenly Han stopped and sniffed the air.

"You look like Chewie," Leia said with a small laugh.

"Smells like another wreck," he told her. She stopped and took a deep breath through her nose, shaking her head when she smelled nothing unusual. "Let's keep going. There's more blaster marks that way."

They crossed a shallow stream and squelched through a patch of thick mud before climbing up a rise that overlooked a ring of trees. In the center, two smashed speeders were piled at the base of one massive trunk. Han put his finger up to his lips to hush Leia as they scrambled down towards the scene.

"Kriff." Han picked his way through the wreckage, finding more blaster marks closer to ground level behind one of the trees. Spotting a familiar looking object settled on top of a large fallen branch that rested like a bridge over a small hollow, he hurried over. "Luke's helmet," he said somberly as Leia joined him. Abruptly, she gasped and whipped out her blaster.

Han turned, pulling out his own weapon as he spotted the stormtrooper lying prone in the dirt on the far side of the hollow. Aiming his blaster carefully, he approached and turned the man with his foot. "He's dead," he confirmed, looking down at the hole blasted through the weak spot in the armor and into the man's chest. "Luke made it this far, anyways."

Leia looked up as there was a soft rustle of leaves behind them. She pointed her blaster, waving to Han to crouch down beside her as they watched carefully for any sign of hostile forces. After a moment, a pair of the little rodents rolled out of the tree towards them, engaged in a vicious wrestling match and paying the humans no mind. She had just began to breathe a sigh of relief when she heard the distinct sound of a blaster firing followed almost immediately by the heavy thump of Han Solo falling to the ground beside her.

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Luke had never been so embarrassed in his life.

He'd been busy entertaining the chief, or at least the fuzzy creature who seemed to be the chief, with a few tricks involving floating objects across the room of the small hut where he'd been presented following his incidental encounter with the furry Endor native, and hadn't noticed that a group of the creatures had marched off into the woods carrying hunting gear until they returned with dinner tied to stakes. Dinner, of course, being the bulk of the strike team that he'd accompanied to Endor, minus Han and Leia. At least with them he could have joked about it afterwards, but the bound commandos who were being unceremoniously loaded onto spits looked decidedly unamused. Rather than savoring the bizarre humor of the situation, Luke walked over to the team, shaking his head vigorously as he released them one at a time from their bonds.

After a tooth-baring growl at the little hunters, Chewie enveloped Luke in a hug. The others brushed detritus from their clothes as they observed the gathering with some confusion.

"Where are Han and Leia?" Luke asked as Derlin approached, watching the armed natives cautiously.

"Looking for you," the major told him. "We, uh, stumbled into a trap." He sent a quick glare in Chewbacca's direction, and the big Wookiee shrugged. "We're supposed to rendezvous at 0300. Who…I mean, uh, what are your friends here?"

"I have no idea what they're called," Luke admitted as the one he assumed was the tribal chief approached, yammering at him. "Any idea where Threepio is? Maybe he could help?"

With an eye roll so deep that Luke's Aunt Beru would have warned him against permanent blindness, Derlin gestured behind them. "He's on his way."

Luke had to choke back a laugh as the droid emerged from the woods on a livery carried by six singing creatures. They set him down gently as Artoo rolled up behind, scolding and squalling.

"Master Luke!" Threepio called out, "You're safe!"

"I am, Threepio," Luke responded. "Sorry to cause everyone concern." He gestured to the village around him. "Threepio, can you translate their speech?"

"Certainly, Master Luke! I am fluent in over six million forms of communication…" Luke held up a hand to stop the monologue.

"Just tell us what they're saying."

"Well, this is rather embarrassing," Threepio continued. "They seem to think I am some sort of deity."

With a noise that scattered the creatures brave enough to start approaching Chewbacca, the Wookiee burst out with a guffaw that echoed through the trees. Luke allowed himself another small chuckle.

"Droid, just have them return our gear and let's keep moving," Derlin interrupted. "We've got a long way to go."

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Leia whirled around, her blaster pointing at the trees as she fought the urge to kneel down next to Han and check his injuries. In the brief second she'd looked at him, there was no sign of any physical damage, suggesting he'd been hit by a stun blast. The source of that blast needed her immediate attention, and unfortunately they were nowhere to be seen.

She crouched down, two fingers going to Solo's neck as she kept her blaster poised, watching carefully for any motion. She could feel a strong pulse.

"Freeze."

Somehow they had crept up behind her. From the tenor of the voice and the distinct size and feel of the blaster barrel shoved roughly between her shoulder blades, Leia knew it was a stormtrooper without even looking.

"Drop your weapon." Another trooper appeared next to her, nudging Han with his foot and then pointing a blaster at his head. She gently set her own blaster on the ground next to her, lifting her hands to her head and watching with dismay as the first trooper roughly rolled Han over and snapped thick binders onto his unmoving wrists. Her captor reached around and picked up her blaster, never moving the weapon from her back. She shifted uncomfortably, longing to either stand or sit and relieve the burning strain in her muscles.

"Call ahead to base and let them know we got two of them," the first trooper said as his companion began struggling to drag Han towards the woods. "And bring the bike over here." As he trotted off to comply, Leia heard the man behind her quietly mutter, "Idiot."

She had a second of relief as the trooper moved the blaster from her back, but before she could even consider turning to attack he had clasped both her wrists together in one hand, pulling out another pair of binders and fastening her wrists tightly in front of her. She bit her lip against a gasp of pain as he grabbed the cuffs to pull her to her feet.

The second trooper had returned with a speeder bike, and was manhandling Han's limp body over the front. He hopped on behind, one hand on his unconscious prisoner's back as he slowly proceeded through the woods.

"Now," said the first trooper, obviously the higher ranking, "You going to behave yourself, or do I need to knock you out?"

Leia gulped, trying to look as meek as possible. If she was stunned, they'd be locked in an Imperial cell before either of them awoke. It was a long shot, but at least if she was awake they might have some chance at escape. Trying not to think about the implications of failure, Leia squeaked, "I'll behave."

"Good." Clasping her around the waist, the trooper lifted her up onto his own bike, settling behind her as he followed his companion back through the woods. Leia leaned forward slightly, trying to give the impression that she was resigned to her fate, as she watched for a good opportunity.

Making sure Han and his captor were still in sight, Leia waited until they were in the middle of a small, soft-looking meadow before wobbling and pitching herself sideways off the bike. As she had hoped, the trooper had gotten complacent as she stayed submissive for the first portion of their journey, and was a hair too late in reaching out a hand to catch her. True to his companion's earlier description, the second trooper spun his bike around when he heard his superior officer curse, and Han slipped backwards off the bike, knocking the trooper off with him as he fell.

Leia pushed herself up and dashed the few meters across the field, spying the fallen trooper and—more importantly—his blaster. Her hands were still tightly bound, but she was determined to be able to lift the heavy blaster long enough to take out their two pursuers before she worried about that. The trooper groaned and rolled towards Han, not seeing the princess barreling towards him.

She nearly had her hands on the blaster when, with a roar of engines, she was grabbed by the back of her collar and lifted back onto the speeder bike. "Nice try," the trooper taunted as he lifted his smaller sidearm to her head. She slumped into his arms as the stun bolt smashed into her temple. "Get back up and let's get moving," he hollered to his companion, who was struggling to lift Han back onto the bike. He shook his head, making sure his helmet-to-helmet radio was turned off as he again grumbled, "Idiot."

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"What is the meaning of this disturbance? There are going to be hundreds of Rebels crawling like parasites over the Sanctuary Moon in a matter of hours. You do not need to consult me about their disposal, Lord Vader." The Emperor remained seated on the dais of his throne room, which had been hastily assembled as word of the monarch's impending visit had been announced. Vader continued to kneel, knowing that Palpatine was aware that he was seething about the reprimand and was enjoying his apprentice's anger.

He had come immediately when he'd received the report, and then visually confirmed, that the two rebels captured in the forests of Endor were none other than Han Solo and Leia Organa. Palpatine had specifically instructed that he remain undisturbed until they received word of Skywalker's location or capture. Vader assumed the old man would appreciate the importance of holding his son's best friends captive, but he had clearly misjudged and now Palpatine was using the opportunity to humiliate him in front of the Royal Guard.

Fine. Two could play at that game. If Palpatine had no interest in using the princess and the smuggler as bargaining chips, Vader would gladly hold them in reserve. He gave another deep bow, and then stalked out as Palpatine dismissed him.

Stepping out, Vader suppressed long sigh as one of his lieutenants sidled up beside him. "The prisoners, milord?"

Vader thought for a moment. He wanted them secured on one of the star destroyers that was waiting in the outer parts of the system for the Rebel fleet to arrive. They would still end up in the battle with their lives at risk, but it was the best option for preserving them at the moment. And, he thought practically, if they were killed, he could still harness the anguish he expected from Luke to further the boy's journey to the Dark Side.

"Contact Admiral Strage and have them transferred to the detention unit on the Chimaera," Vader said finally. "Inform me when the transfer is complete."

"Yes, milord." The man bowed deeply and hurried away, leaving Vader to stare out the viewport into the deep blue expanse of space. Luke was below, he knew in his heart, on the green sanctuary moon. Soon they would be reunited, and Palpatine would be dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Leia Organa had endured some bad headaches in the previous few years, but the current level of pounding and throbbing in her skull was setting a personal record. She groaned, covering her eyes with her hand against the white fluorescence washing over the room.

"You waking up, sweetheart?"

"Han?" Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton as she forced herself to open her eyes. Han's blurry visage hovered over her, and for a brief moment she thought she was safe. Then the rest of the small room came into focus and she cursed, realizing they were sitting in an Imperial detention cell.

"Well, good morning to you too, your highness," Han said, trying to grin at her. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up." He kept his voice light, as though he were joking, but the concerned look in his eyes revealed the true depth of his worry.

"Bastard shot me in the head," Leia told him, the events that preceded her arrival in the cell coming back to her in a rush. Then she looked over at him. "Are you okay?"

"Eh, I'm fine. Started to come to when they were pitching us in here, but I guess they didn't notice."

"How long have we been in here?" She looked around, not knowing what she expected to see. The gray walls and floor were sickeningly familiar, though the cell was smaller than the one she had occupied on the Death Star. "Not that I know where 'here' is."

"Pretty sure we're on a Star Destroyer," Han told her. "It hasn't been real long. I'm guessing it's maybe 0100 or 0200…"

With a nearly invisible nod, she indicated that she had taken his meaning. The strike team would be meeting at the shield generator soon, but without their general. They were capable, competent people, and had gone over the plans for destroying the Death Star's shields until they could repeat it in their sleep. Still, she wrung her hands, wondering if her split second decision to pursue the stormtroopers had doomed the entire operation.

Seeing the sickened look on Leia's face, Han slung an arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. She couldn't verbalize her worries, not with the Imperials presumably monitoring their every word and move, but he knew. Setting a cool hand against her aching head, he closed his eyes, fighting his own despair for no other reason than to stay strong for the princess.

She leaned into him, trying to focus on nothing but the fact that at least they were imprisoned together. If she'd been alone, forced to wonder what was happening, her already fragile sanity might have reached the breaking point. She'd gone through too much just to lose Han again now. Though from experience she was all too aware of how their shared cell might be used as a weapon by the Imperials.

"Promise me," she whispered, "no matter what happens, no matter what they do to me, you won't tell them anything."

Startled, Han squeezed her tightly. He was no fool, and as he sat with Leia's head resting on his lap waiting for the effects of the stun blast to wear off, he'd stroked her cheek and fought a rising panic about whether she'd be harmed in an attempt to get him to spill the details of the Rebel operation. She hadn't breathed a word to him about what was done to her on Bespin as they rushed from Tatooine back to the fleet at Sullust, but he had no reason to believe that the Imperials had changed their existing policy on torturing the young princess. Worse, though he told himself over and over again that he'd stay strong out of respect for her commitment to the Alliance, he just didn't know if he had it in him.

"Yeah," he responded softly. "I'll do my best. You too, okay?"

Leia twisted her head around to look at him. "Han, I mean it. I don't want you to do your best. I want you to promise."

Han turned away, not wanting to catch her eye. "Kriff, Leia…."

"Promise." Her voice was quiet, but firm. "Please."

He took a deep breath, trying to shut out the horrifying pictures that were working to hammer their way into his mind. There were so many times even before they'd finally confessed their feelings for each other that he'd woken her up from the depths of a nightmare about the previous torment she'd suffered at the hands of the Imperials. To this date, she'd refused to share specifics about her memories, but his imagination filled in the gaps, albeit against his will. The prospect of her repeating that experience, when he could stop it with a few words, was unthinkable. But so was letting her down.

"I promise," he said huskily.

"Me too," she told him, squaring her shoulders as she cuddled up against him.

They stayed there in silence, every topic of conversation that came to mind taboo for some reason or another. Leia stared ahead at the solid door, wondering when it would slide open and what would be on the other side when it did. She looked down at Han's strong hands, which were clasped tightly around her. She had considered asking him to strangle her, to put her out of her misery once and for all. But the memory of the look she'd gotten from Luke a lifetime ago when she made a similar request under the imminent threat of capture by Darth Vader stopped her. It wasn't a burden she could put on anyone but herself.

She desperately wanted to talk to Han about Luke, if only to have him offer empty reassurances of Luke's safety down on Endor. She wondered if anyone knew they had been captured, or if the team was even still on track to take out the shield generator. Maybe the rest of them were sitting in cells too.

As though he could sense her train of thought, Han murmured, "Not knowing is the hardest part." She could only nod in response, her voice catching in her throat.

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Luke shifted his pack on his shoulders as he brought up the rear of the single file procession towards the scheduled rendezvous at the shield generator. They had spaced out, keeping enough distance between each soldier to avoid the type of group ambush that had befallen them at the hunting site. Next to Luke, Threepio shuffled along, staying silent as ordered as he struggled slightly under the camouflage gear loaned to them by the little creatures—Ewoks, Threepio told him, were what they called themselves.

He hadn't told Derlin that he doubted Han and Leia would be waiting for them at the rendezvous point. No reason to upset the mission now, but he'd sensed a flash of terrified emotions that confirmed what he suspected for hours—that Leia was in terrible danger. Likely Han too.

Luke kept a straight face as they marched along, not wanting to reveal his inner turmoil. Yoda's words so many months ago echoed in his brain…"if you honor what they fight for." But at the same time, Ben's revelation haunted him…"your sister…" He hadn't even had a chance to tell her yet.

A bird's whistle sounded through the trees; their prearranged signal that they had reached their destination. Luke raised a finger to his lips to reinforce the warning to Threepio, and continued through the forest to meet with the other commandos.

Derlin was grimacing as Luke approached. "They aren't here," he said quietly. Chewbacca harned, looking around into the deep woods for his friends. A wave of guilt swept over Luke—he knew he should tell Chewie the truth, but he needed time to think about his own plans first.

The suffocating presence of the Emperor and his father washed over him. They were nearby, and Vader may have even been on the moon itself. Not for the first time since Vader had revealed his heritage, Luke wondered if his mere presence was compromising the mission. Would Vader be able to track their every move through Luke? He considered surrendering himself, getting away from the other commandos before the Sith tracked them down. At the same time, they were already down two people, including their commander. Would his desertion leave them too undermanned to carry out the operation?

Sinking down to the ground to rest his legs, Luke breathed deeply, looking to the Force for answers. Chewbacca watched him carefully, but the rest of the group busied themselves with preparations for the coming attack. The Wookiee knew something was up, but was willing to give Luke time…to a point.

The young Jedi hadn't kept track of the passage of time, and was surprised when he was nudged gently out of his trance by one of the other soldiers. "General Solo's still not back. We're going to reconfigure the operation. Major Derlin is taking command. Luke nodded, pushing himself to his feet.

A furry arm reached out and stopped him from joining the group. Luke's skills in Shyriwook weren't great, but he could generally make out Chewie's words.

"Do you know what's become of Han and the princess?" Chewie rumbled quietly.

"I think they've been captured," Luke admitted. Chewie moaned softly, controlling his urge to start smashing everything around them in rage. "I'm pretty sure they're still alive."

Looking over his shoulder at the assembled commandos, Luke pulled Chewie down closer. "I have to go. I can't stay." The Wookiee gave him a skeptical look. "Vader can sense me here. I'm putting the whole team in danger."

At the sound of the Sith Lord's name, Chewie bared his teeth. Luke put a calming hand on his arm. "I'll tell the others, but please stay with them. I need to do this alone, and they need you."

"And leave Han and Leia to their fate?" Chewbacca roared, tempering his voice only a little. The rest of the group looked over at them. Luke scrunched up his face, not fully understanding the Wookiee but catching the names of their friends.

"The best thing we can do for them right now is win this battle," Luke told him.

"They could be killed!"

"You think I don't know that?" Luke snapped back, surprising Chewie with his uncharacteristic vehemence. "There is a lot more at stake here, you know."

Chewie stepped back, shocked at what seemed to be Luke's casual dismissal of their companions. Luke realized that there had been a misunderstanding, and softened his tone. "I want to save them too. But trust me, there is a greater danger right now, especially for Leia."

Chewie looked at him quizzically and gave an interrogatory bark. "I can't tell you right now. But please, trust me." With a sigh, the Wookiee acceded and followed Luke over to join the gathering.

"Major," he interrupted as Derlin was about to begin giving his new orders. "I'm afraid I can't stay."

"What?" Derlin looked at him as though Luke had just told a sick joke. "What are you talking about?"

He looked into the eyes of his fellow soldiers, trying to put himself in their place as he decided what to tell them. Most of them were young, close to his age, and as ignorant of the Jedi as he had been before Leia's distress call came crashing into his life. The religion of the Force had disappeared from the Core Worlds before many of them were out of diapers, derided as a fairy tale by people disillusioned by the fall of the old order. Citing visions and feelings wasn't going to get him far on the battlefield, but he'd have to try.

"I've been training more as a Jedi," he said quickly, and was relieved when most of them nodded understandingly. "But I guess my presence is stronger in the Force now, and I didn't know that would mean that Darth Vader could sense me." The last bit was of course a lie, but only Chewbacca knew that. Luke was aware that the Wookiee must be wondering why Luke would have volunteered for the mission without thinking of this potential pitfall, but he didn't have time to address that now. He just hoped his friend would understand in the end. "My presence here is putting the whole team at risk."

Derlin sucked his teeth, letting Luke's words sink in. "Where will you go?"

He hadn't yet thought of what to tell them. His plan, which his meditations told him was the right path, was to surrender in hopes of meeting his father and bringing him back from the Dark Side. But sharing that plan would first require him to tell this group of rebel soldiers that Vader was his father, and pure logic dictated that this was not a good idea.

"I'll keep moving away from your operations," Luke said finally. "If they track me, you'll have an easier time completing the mission."

"I don't know if we can spare you…" Derlin said noncommittally.

"There's no other choice," Luke responded firmly. "I wish it wasn't the case." He turned to Chewbacca, removing the pack of gear and weapons, keeping only his lightsaber, and handing them to the Wookiee. "Good luck. May the Force be with you."

"What do we tell General Solo and the Princess if they show up?" Derlin called after him as Luke started back towards the forest. Luke turned and just looked at him sadly before disappearing into the distance.

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It didn't take long for Luke to hike back to the scene of their initial confrontation with the Imperials, and, as he anticipated, it was swarming with troops looking for evidence of the Rebels that had taken out the scouts. He approached with his hands up, his lightsaber visible on his belt, hoping that they would indeed arrest him rather than simply shooting him on sight. He made a mental note to tell Han and Leia, should he ever see them again, that he'd had to shout to get the Imperials' attention as he walked towards them. They would be amused.

Five troopers and an officer marched up to him, blasters drawn and aimed at various vulnerable portions of his anatomy. He was quickly bound and the lightsaber snatched away. They didn't bother to ask him name, presumably because they expected to him to refuse to give it, and did a thorough search to make sure he wasn't somehow booby trapped. After enduring the prodding for a few minutes, Luke finally spoke up.

"I'm Luke Skywalker," he said loudly. The officer stood and looked at him closely. "Number one on the Emperor's Top 40?" The man didn't laugh at his attempt at humor, but rather stepped briskly back towards the gaggle of troops and pulled aside one of his lieutenants. Luke couldn't hear him, but prayed to the Force that they were going to contact Vader. He had spent the hike over being terrified about what he was about to attempt, and now he was just anxious to see his father and find out whether Anakin Skywalker still hid behind that mask.

He took a deep breath as he waited, still surrounded by troops, and forced all thoughts of Leia out of his mind. No matter what, he couldn't let Vader or Palpatine find out that she was heir to the same powers as him. His own brushes with the Dark Side were enough to convince him that it would be better if she died than fall under the influence of the Sith. The most recent sense he got of her seemed far away, and he prayed that she wasn't being held on the Death Star.

"Take him to the landing platform," the officer ordered, returning to Luke's side. "You can use the transport over there."

Luke startled when the troopers escorted him towards a small clearing. Next to an array of speeder bikes sat one of the enormous all-terrain attack transports that he'd battled against on Hoth. The machine looked almost comically out of place among the trees on Endor, and Luke fought back a burst of nausea as he saw the trail of felled trees that marked out the path between the AT-AT and the landing platform. They weren't sentient in the strictest sense of the word, but Luke still felt the Force trickling away as the giants slowly succumbed, exhaling the last bits of oxygen into the damp atmosphere and gently dropping their seeds to the rich ground in hopes that a new generation would memorialize the hundreds of years they stood guard over the forest.

The walker was already kneeling with the boarding ramp extended. Luke marched up without protest, letting two of the troopers secure him into a seat in the body of the transport as the rest went to the cockpit. With a sickening swing upwards, the walker straightened and marched off, the vibrations as its feet hit the ground rattling in Luke's teeth.

He sat silently, finding no reason to try to engage his captors, but the appearance of the heavy weaponry worried him. From their briefings, he knew the shield generator was already heavily armored—why then would the Empire need so much additional firepower planetside? A theory struck him like a punch to the gut. The Imperials knew they were coming.

His face emotionless, he concentrated, hoping that somehow the Force would look kindly on him today and let his message get through to his compatriots. Focusing on Chewbacca, on Derlin, on the strike team, on the ships waiting for the planned assault, he silently screamed into the Force.

"It's a trap!"

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	3. Chapter 3

"It won't help them, my son." Luke looked up at his father with a mix of confusion and dismay, and then realized he was referring to the warning cry he'd sent through the Force. "None of them have the power you hold. They are blind to the Force."

Luke didn't respond as they walked towards Vader's shuttle, having nothing to say to him. He had done what he could for the Alliance soldiers. Now he needed to focus on his father.

"Father," he began, his speech rehearsed as the transport creaked closer to their destination. Vader interrupted him.

"So you have decided to accept the truth?"

"I have accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father," Luke recited, not trusting himself to ad lib. Vader didn't react visibly to Luke's comment, but the young man felt a ripple in the Force as he used his father's birth name. "And…" he faltered slightly, forgetting exactly what he planned to say, "I believe there is still good in you, Father."

"I am not here to debate definitions with you, my son," Vader responded finally. "What you call goodness is merely weakness. The Emperor will teach you the true meaning of power."

"I have no interest in power that feeds on the fear of others, Father."

"It is not my concern if the beings in this galaxy fear me because of my power."

"What about your fear then?" Luke asked, keeping his voice modulated as they stepped into the shuttle. He leaned in close, speaking just loudly enough to be heard over Vader's deep breathing. "You wanted me to help you overthrow the Emperor. His power only exists because you fear him, Father. Stand up to him and he will be nothing!"

Vader held up his hand to silence Luke. The boy was getting ahead of himself. Palpatine would only be vulnerable if he truly believed that he had Luke's loyalty, and success depended on him first embracing the Dark Side. To be honest, Vader would have preferred if he'd been able to complete Luke's instruction on his own, but the boy's resistance at Bespin had been too much. As much as he resented it, he needed Palpatine's help to turn his son before the two of them could kill the Emperor and take their rightful places as rulers of the galaxy.

"Don't underestimate the power of the Dark Side," Vader warned his son. "You will obey the Emperor, or you will die."

"It is not all powerful," Luke said sullenly. "If it was, you would have killed me already. There is still good in you, Father. I can feel it."

Vader looked at his son, cursing the boy's perception. True, the discovery that his child had lived unlocked something in Vader's soul that he thought had died along with his beloved wife. True, the thought of the boy bowing before Palpatine sickened him to the core. But the Jedi had still betrayed him, and his mindless dedication to the Light Side of the Force had earned him nothing. He forced himself to swallow the tendrils of compassion and love he felt for the boy. Those feelings would only get them both killed.

"It is too late for me, my son," he growled softly, unsure whether the words were a warning or a cry for help. Briefly, he thought about the boy's friends, imprisoned on the Chimaera in the far reaches of the solar system. He wondered if he should order them brought to the Death Star to be offered as sacrifices to Palpatine in order to delay any harm that might be inflicted on his son. For the moment, he opted to leave them languishing in the star destroyer's detention facility. They could be useful if things went awry during his son's initial audience with the Emperor.

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"Can you climb one of these trees?" Derlin whispered to Chewbacca. "I want to get another look at our surroundings before we launch the attack." Chewbacca nodded, grabbing a proffered pair of macrobinoculars and heading over to one of the giant conifers. He swiftly latched onto the surprisingly spongy bark, shimmying up to the first set of branches and disappearing into the canopy.

"Do another scan," he told Artoo, who wheedled in response and began a slow rotation on his base, sensors extended. Threepio stood quietly by, waiting to give a report. He'd been admonished multiple times by the major to stop talking idly, and had finally gotten the point when Derlin threatened to shut him down and cannibalize his parts for weaponry.

Derlin's comlink vibrated, and the gathered commandos could hear Chewbacca's frantic reporting. Gesturing Threepio over, Derlin told Chewbacca to repeat what he had said.

"Oh dear!" Threepio exclaimed. "Chewbacca says there is a mass of Imperial forces less than a kilometer away. At least three squads of troopers and a complement of AT-STs and….slow down, Chewbacca…they're headed this way!" Artoo, finishing his scan, squealed in agreement.

"Kriff." Derlin waved at his troops to follow him. "It's a trap. Tell Chewbacca to stay up there and keep comlink silence until he gets my signal. Let's move out."

"How long until the ships arrive?" Lieutenant Page asked quietly as they gathered their equipment and retreated away from the shield generator.

"Not long enough," Derlin said with a grimace. "But I think I have an idea."

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"Gods, I'm starving," Han muttered, checking his pockets to see if the Imperials had missed any ration bars when they searched him. Leia did the same, shaking out her poncho to see if there was anything there.

"Sorry," she told him. "They took my belt—it had all my supplies."

"I'll live," he said, patting his stomach. "I've got a little more here than I ought to have anyways. Must be getting old." He smiled at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not hungry," Leia responded, wondering how in the hell he could be thinking of his stomach at a time like this.

"You've lost weight again," Han said, looking at her critically. Leia couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous context of the comment.

"Less of me to execute then, I guess," she quipped.

"Maybe they've forgotten about us," he suggested hopefully.

"No." She stood, turning away from him. "This is all standard procedure. First they make you wait, starve you, dehydrate you until you don't know which way is up. Then they beat the crap out of you a few times before the real fun starts." Her voice was flat, her face expressionless.

"Leia." Han stood next to her, reaching out tentatively to touch her arm. Her muscles were tense, and she flinched as he made contact. "Please."

"There are scientists out there," she continued, ignoring him, "whose sole research is on better and more efficient ways to cause excruciating pain. They use droids that can monitor the physiological impact of the drugs they inject, so they can take you to the absolute maxim your body can handle without killing you. And then they do it over, and over, and over….." Her voice faded away as she slumped against the wall. "There's no immunity either. I checked, when I was doing my own research…"

"What research? What are you talking about?" He kept his voice soft.

"After Yavin," she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. "The medics didn't have time to…deal with me. They wanted to do blood tests but I just couldn't take anymore needles or droids. One of the doctors got fed up and told me that there could be permanent damage if they weren't able to analyze what was done to me, so I did my own research on Imperial interrogation droids."

"What did you find?"

"Not a hell of a lot," Leia admitted. "More about methodology than actual chemicals. I figured I wasn't going to live long enough for it to matter anyways." She laughed dryly, not bothering to add that for a few brief hours before they were captured on Bespin she had cared, for the first time, whether the day would come that she would drop dead from the lingering poisons. For the first time since her home exploded, she had wondered whether the future might hold something other than pain. Now, she could only selfishly hope that they killed her before they killed Han.

He stepped closer, gathering her into his arms and holding her tightly against his body. She was trembling.

"I know exactly what they're doing," she continued, "how they're trying to soften us up." She looked up at him, and her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "But I'm still scared, Han. I'm still scared."

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"It'll work best if we can take two, but even one should do the trick if we're able to get close enough to the generator facility," Derlin said, using a stick to draw a diagram of his plan in the dirt on the forest floor. "Chewbacca, you still copy?" The Wookiee grunted quietly into the comlink in response.

Derlin looked into the faces of the commandos surrounding him. "We knew coming into this that it could be a suicide mission, and unfortunately I think that's even more of a certainty now. But the survival of the Rebel Alliance depends on our success. I have full faith that we will succeed." The soldiers nodded their assent, clapping each other on the back and offering goodbyes as they checked their weapons.

"Teams will go on my mark," Derlin said. "Keep to your planned trajectory. If you end up taking out all your pursuers, you can double back, but make sure you're not leading any Imps back towards the target. We need to scatter them as much as possible."

"Yes, sir!" Derlin nodded. "Team alpha, get in position."

Three commandos crept back in the direction of the shield generator, armed to the teeth with blasters and grenades. Approaching the enormous facility from one side, they snuck up behind a squadron of stormtroopers, looking to see if any of the AT-STs was accompanying them.

"No walker at the moment," one of them murmured into his comlink. "We'll work on the troopers. Team Alpha out."

Lobbing a grenade, the Rebels watched, gratified, as a few of the troopers fell victim to the blast. The rest turned directly into the volley of blaster fire. A few more of them hit the ground before the Rebels abruptly stopped firing to turn tail and run at full speed into the woods, the remaining members of the stormtrooper squadron in full pursuit.

"Team Alpha is away," Chewie said quietly, watching the men run from his vantage point high in the trees. "Looks like they've got about ten stormies chasing them."

Derlin smiled. So far, so good. Now they just needed to get their hands on one of those AT-STs.

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Luke looked genuinely shocked when Vader delivered him to the throne room. The dark lord tamped down his frustration with his son's inherent optimism, not wanting Palpatine to get too clear a sense of his feelings for the boy. Luke was going to have to learn that the galaxy didn't always have happy endings.

"Welcome, welcome," Palpatine croaked as Vader guided Luke towards the old man. Luke looked at his father in horror, recoiling as he drew closer to the Emperor. "Come now, young Skywalker. An audience with your Emperor is a great honor."

"Not for me," Luke said defiantly, trying not to look past Palpatine at the viewport. The Rebel fleet was due soon, and while it seemed that the attack was expected in part, Luke didn't want to inadvertently give away any details on the strike force or the timing.

Palpatine picked up Luke's lightsaber, fingering the controls. "An impressive weapon, young Skywalker. Your power rivals that of your father." He gave Luke a sickening smile. "But it is the weapon of a Jedi." He spat out the word as if it were a curse. "You will need a more appropriate blade when you are in my service."

"I'll never serve you." Luke's voice wavered slightly, but he forced himself to stand firm and not back away as the Emperor tottered towards him. "Soon I'll be dead, and you with me."

Palpatine cackled, the sound grating on Luke's ears. "Ah, yes. The imminent attack of your Rebel fleet. Don't worry, young Skywalker. I am fully prepared to deal with your Rebel friends. Perhaps if you behave yourself I will even let you attend some executions."

Luke paled, trying not to look fazed. He desperately tried to keep his thoughts off Leia.

"You'll never turn me to the Dark Side," he said, hoping to shift the Emperor's attention back to him. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

Laughing again, Palpatine looked at Vader. "Leave us!" he barked. For a moment, Vader didn't move. Abandoning Luke to Palpatine was not part of his plan. A few seconds passed, and the Emperor scowled at him. "Lord Vader, I said leave us." Having no other option, Vader bowed low, backing out of the room.

Once outside, he stayed near the door, ready to respond if Palpatine tried to harm his son. He could feel the Emperor's frustration with the boy's stubborn resistance, and felt a cold fear that Luke could be killed if he didn't show signs of turning soon. Summoning an aide, he ordered them to get in contact with the Chimaera.

"Have the prisoners brought here immediately," he said. On Bespin, the boy had edged close to the Dark Side, and Vader was confident that if he'd been able to use the princess as leverage over the boy as he'd planned, they would be ruling the galaxy already. But better late than never.

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"Beta team is away!" The second group of Rebels had attracted the attention of another full squadron of stormtroopers, and was leading them on a merry chase into another section of woods. The AT-STs still remained idle though, and Chewbacca grumbled in frustration as he peered at them through the macrobinoculars. Derlin's plan would only work if they could isolate an AT-ST during its pursuit.

Swinging down to a lower branch, he noticed some motion in the trees to the south. For a moment, he was concerned that the Imperials had zeroed in on his unlikely hiding place, but a closer look revealed that a team of Ewoks had assembled and was watching the proceedings below with interest. The Wookiee decided to ignore them for the moment. Their weapons were primitive and he had no idea whether they would be willing to help the Rebels divert the stormtroopers.

"Kappa, go!" Derlin's voice came through a few minutes later, and Chewbacca saw yet more explosions as the penultimate group of Rebels raided the rapidly diminishing personnel outside the shield generator. As they had anticipated, the blast doors on the shield generator had been sealed tightly after the first attack, which had the unexpected benefit of limiting the number of troops outside. Finally there were few enough that the Imperials were forced to bring in one of their walkers. Chewie growled the news over his comm.

"Team Kappa, head west southwest! You've got a target!" Derlin hissed. The commandos responded immediately, giving the walker enough time to get a bead on them before heading directly underneath Chewbacca.

He swung through the trees after them, hanging from his powerful arms as he leapt from branch to branch. Years of experience hunting on Kashyyyk gave him the skills he needed to move quickly and silently, his eyes never leaving the AT-ST as it tromped through the forest. At the planned time, the Rebel team split up again, and Chewbacca saw the transport hesitate before barging a path after one of the men.

More movement in the trees up ahead caught his attention, and he grimaced when he saw another group of Ewoks sitting on a branch watching the pursuit with interest. They were discussing something amongst themselves, and he nervously kept one eye on them as he followed after the walker.

The rebel soldier doubled back, sheltering behind a tree as the AT-ST fired. Raising his bowcaster, Chewbacca aimed at the walker, but held his fire. The bolts likely wouldn't pierce the thick armor, and would just give away his position. He had hoped the driver might open the top voluntarily, but he'd have to do this the hard way. Swinging down, he prepared to leap on top of the walker and lie in wait for the first poor soul to investigate.

A high pitched battle cry rang out as the Wookiee drew closer, and Chewbacca and the soldier on the ground both looked up in surprise as one of the trees began raining Ewoks down on the walker.

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"You expect your father to save you, young Skywalker?" Palpatine watched the tranquil space outside the Death Star as he spoke. "Surely you must know that he is fully under my control now."

Luke bit his lip, not sure whether it was worth getting into a debate with the Emperor. It wasn't like he was going to be able to argue him into giving up the Dark Side. At the same time, he desperately wished Vader would come back. Being alone with Palpatine wasn't high on his bucket list.

"He would kill you if I ordered it," Palpatine continued. "Though perhaps I will wait until we have a chance to greet your Rebel friends properly."

"I don't believe he will harm me," Luke stated, his eyes following the Emperor's gaze into empty space. The Rebel fleet would be arriving soon…

"What you believe has no bearing on what is true, boy," the Emperor cackled. He turned to watch Luke, who stood as impassively as possible. The old man fingered Luke's weapon, which he clutched as he hobbled back towards his throne. "You want this, don't you?"

Luke shook his head.

"Take your Jedi weapon," Palpatine taunted. "Strike me down with it. We both know you crave my blood."

Luke didn't move.

With a smile, Palpatine sat back down, depressing a comm button on the side of the throne. "Have Lord Vader return with a Rebel prisoner."

At that command, Luke gulped. He had no idea whether any additional Rebels had been captured since he took leave of the strike team, but the possibility that Leia was about to be dragged in by Vader and presented to the Emperor shook him to the core. The thought of them harming her to get to him was bad enough, but if one or both men discovered their relationship, the Emperor might abandon his recruitment of Luke to focus on corrupting his untrained sister.

A moment later, Vader came back through the door. "The Rebel prisoners are on their way," he reported. Luke could sense that he wasn't happy about some turn of events. He looked directly at Luke. "I suggest," he said, "that you obey your master, lest your friends be made to suffer."

Luke turned slightly green. It was like Bespin all over, but with the added complication of Palpatine's presence and his own knowledge of the existence of his sibling. Briefly, he mused that his ignorance of his relationship to Leia probably protected her during his previous duel with his father.

"This is your last chance, young Skywalker," Palpatine told him, his voice growing less solicitous. "Kneel."

Luke knew he had to act. Stretching out his hand, he yanked his lightsaber away from the Emperor. Igniting it, he swung it at the old man's head.

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The sound of boots outside their cell brought both Han and Leia to their feet. Han pushed Leia behind him as the door slid open, revealing four heavily armed stormtroopers and an officer holding two pairs of binders. The stormtroopers pushed their way in, not speaking as they wrenched the couple apart and tightly bound their hands.

"Where are we going now?" Han asked the officer. He didn't respond. Two troopers flanked each of the prisoners, keeping an iron grip on their arms as the officer led them towards a turbolift at the end of the long corridor. Han twisted his head back to look at Leia, who was being dragged along behind them faster than she could keep up. He gave her a comforting wink, and she smiled wanly back at him. Her face was stark white, but her eyes were bright and clear. Han knew she thought they were about to be executed, but he was nervous that their fate was not so simple.

They were marched out of the lift and into a wide hangar, confirming Han's earlier suspicion that they were on a star destroyer rather than the Death Star itself. A shuttle sat warming up, its boarding ramp extended, and the troops prodded them in, securing their cuffs to the seats. Two of the troopers and the officer settled into the passenger compartment as well, keeping guns trained on their captives.

"Nice digs," Han said pleasantly, trying to get any sort of reaction out of the stone faced Imperial. "How fast can these things go? I remember when they used to make the Lambda-class without a hyperdrive. That was a real waste, I thought. Of course, I suppose with the way you all travel it wouldn't be much fun being cooped up in the back of one of these for a real long trip. Personally, I like a little space to stretch out. "

He thought the Imps would at least punch him to shut him up, and was surprised when they remained stock still, ignoring his rambling. Leia was staring gape mouthed at him, clearly trying to decide whether to scold or laugh. He gave her a confident grin, and she finally broke down in a hysterical laugh.

"Crazy rebel scum," the officer muttered, heading for the cockpit door.

"I knew you could talk!" Han called after him.

The Imperial captain closed the cockpit door behind him, standing stiffly behind the pilot.

"What's our ETA?"

"It'll be about three quarters of an hour," the pilot reported back. "We're under orders to stick to sublights and stay out of sectors 3 and 4."

"Have you requested permission to circumvent those orders?" the captain asked. "We're delivering the prisoners directly to his Highness, and he won't want to be kept waiting."

"Will do, sir." The pilot activated the comm system, hailing the Death Star. "Requesting permission to…what the?" The transmission abruptly dropped as the pilot instinctively pulled back on the throttle, knocking the captain off his feet as he narrowly avoided smashing into a massive Mon Calamari cruiser that blinked into realspace directly in front of them. As the shuttle arced over the top of the bulbous ship, the pilot could see that an enormous fleet had appeared and was heading directly for the Death Star. A moment later, a volley of laser fire erupted from the rebel cruiser, buffeting the shuttle as it slammed against their shields.

"Evasive action," the captain ordered tightly.

"What about the prisoners?" the pilot asked, whipping away from their attacker.

"I have orders to get them to the Emperor unharmed," the captain responded. "Let's hang back and try to get in touch with command before we're blown to bits."

"Yes, sir." Swinging them around, the pilot headed back for the shelter of one of the outer moons as star destroyers began emerging from concealment and the battle began in earnest.

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Leia shrieked as they were rocked by the blast from the Mon Cal ship.

"I think we just got hit by something," Han said. She turned to glare at him.

"Thanks for that report, flyboy." They both watched the stormtroopers carefully as they felt the shuttle whip upwards and then turn around.

"Want to go check?" one of them said finally to his companion. The other trooper reached forward to double check that their captives' binders hadn't come loose, and then slipped up into the cockpit. A moment later, he returned.

"Just a detour," he reported. "We're still on track to deliver them to the Emperor."

Leia blanched, twisting slightly in her bindings. Han looked over at her, not able to summon the will for a comforting smile this time. He knew they weren't so lucky as to just get shot.


	4. Chapter 4

For a split second, Luke thought his father might actually let him kill the Emperor. It was what he wanted, what he'd tried to recruit Luke to do. So the Jedi was surprised when a flash of red light appeared between him and his target. Vader blocked Luke's cut, shoving his son backwards as Palpatine laughed.

"Why?" Luke shouted, panting from the exertion as Vader slashed at him again, forcing Luke backwards towards the enormous viewscreen. A sudden commotion in space caught his attention: the Rebel fleet had arrived.

Palpatine's laughter grew louder, filling the room. "Your friends have arrived!" he called, and Luke looked up in alarm, wondering if the old man was referring to the fleet or if Leia and Han had been brought in. In spite of the constant barrage from Vader, Luke was relieved to see that it was still only the three of them in the room. He was holding onto his focus at the moment. If Leia was under threat by the Emperor…he hated to admit it to himself, but the temptation to use the Dark Side might become too strong.

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Leia craned her neck as the door to the cockpit opened, trying to catch of glimpse of anything out in open space. The shuttle had turned around and was accelerating away from their original trajectory. Spotting her interest, their guard stepped in front of her, blocking the view.

"Is there a problem?" Han spoke up, growing uncomfortable with the combination of the trooper's obvious anxiety and his proximity to the princess. "We turned around."

As Han hoped, the trooper turned his attentions away from Leia. "One of your little ships got in our way," he said derisively.

Han chuckled. "Your pilot sure turned tail and ran quick for a problem with a little ship. Maybe you should go give him a pep talk."

Stepping closer, the trooper bent down, his helmet close enough to Han's face that the ex-smuggler could see the stubble sprouting on his chin in the reflection. "Why don't you save yourself some trouble and shut your mouth, scum?"

Leia's eyes widened as she silently willed Han to stop antagonizing the man. Stormtroopers were typically highly disciplined, and this man's departure from protocol made her very nervous. But Han was enjoying himself.

"If you want to surrender now, I'd be happy to accept," Han said.

Without a word, the stormtrooper lifted a heavily gloved hand and punched Han in the face. Leia screamed, struggling futilely against her bonds to intervene. She once again watched helplessly as Han slumped forward, unconscious.

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Chewbacca had his bowcaster up and ready as the first AT-ST pilot popped out of the upper hatch. The walker stopped and vibrated, sending Ewoks flying to the forest floor with sickening thumps. Doing his best to avoid any furry collateral damage, the Wookiee fired, hitting the man in the neck and flinging him into the branches of a nearby tree. The body slid down and hit the ground in a crumpled heap, immediately falling victim to vicious blows from a crowd of angry Ewoks.

With a mighty roar, Chewbacca launched himself at the AT-ST, catching the open cockpit door and swinging himself over the opening to stop the troopers inside from pulling it closed against his assault. Flipping the crossbow around, he used it as a cudgel, bashing it methodically into the remaining soldiers as they struggled to aim their blasters at him. One got a shot off, singeing fur. Growling menacingly, Chewbacca stuck his weapon behind him, holding it to the roof of the AT-ST with his foot as he abandoned his wild beating and reached into the cockpit with two hands. The machine ground to a halt as he ripped the pilot from his seat, pitching him over the side to the sea of Ewoks before jumping in and taking over the helm.

He gave a withering glance to the two unconscious troopers that were slumped inside the cabin, not wanting to waste time by ejecting them. The angle of their necks suggested it would be a mere formality, in any event.

Grabbing out his comlink, he hailed Derlin.

"I have the AT-ST," he said, hoping Derlin still had the protocol droid nearby. There was a moment of confusion, and then Threepio's voice came through.

"Major Derlin asks you to repeat that, Chewbacca," Threepio said quietly.

"Tell him I'm on my way back with the AT-ST," Chewbacca said, finding the machine surprisingly easily to operate.

-A/n sorry to stop this in a weirdly abrupt spot. Not much feeling like writing anymore today. Hope any Boston readers are okay. -radioboca


	5. Chapter 5

Chewbacca maneuvered the AT-ST deftly around clusters of Ewoks on the ground, forcing himself to focus on the job at hand as he mentally catalogued the story he'd relate to Han once they found the missing general. Years in the copilot's seat of the Falcon had taught him significant flexibility in the cockpit, since the sensors could rarely be trusted. One had to operate the ship by feel and instinct, and that gave the Wookiee the ability to drop—literally in this case—into nearly any configuration of controls and pilot efficiently. The rocking and vibrating took some getting used to as the machine lumbered through the forest, but so far Derlin's plan was on track.

He spotted the major's signal beacon on the sensors, and shifted to the right. Out of nowhere, an Ewok swung down, hanging over the viewport and brandishing a club until he saw the Wookiee. Chewbacca bared his teeth, and the Ewok nimbly leapt off the walker onto a nearby tree, chittering happily.

He slowed to a crawl as he reached the small group of Rebels not involved in diverting the Imperials away from the shield generator. Raising a hairy paw out of the top of the cockpit to confirm his identity, he reactivated the link to Derlin.

"Can you drop that thing down so we can load it up?" the major asked, handing his comm to Threepio for Chewbacca's reply.

Chewie tried a few buttons and levers to no avail. "You got anyone down there that knows the controls on these things?" he asked finally. Threepio passed along the message, and Derlin quickly conferred with the team on the ground.

As Chewbacca waited, the internal comms system crackled to life. "Scout Three to Scout Four, you copy?"

He momentarily considered taking the Han Solo approach and shooting the entire communications array, but wanted to allay any suspicion of their hijacking plan as long as possible. Instead he turned down the volume and then flung open the hatch, swinging himself onto a nearby branch and then shimmying down the tree to join his companions.

"Chewbacca says to just give him the bag and he'll load it in," Threepio translated as Chewbacca lumbered towards them, shouting.

The Rebels early intelligence on the Endor facility showed that the shield generator was housed in a reinforced building built into the side of a hill to guard against unauthorized entries as well as aerial attacks. Originally the team had hoped to force their way in through the door, planting explosives inside and destroying the generator. The discovery of Rebel commandos and subsequent lockdown of the generator building sent them to a version of the initial Plan B.

The usual engineering design for the bunker required that the rear wall, which was supported by the hillside behind it, be detachable from the rest of the structure to allow natural fluctuations in the surrounding terrain to move the wall slightly without straining the rest of the load bearing components. However, this left a vulnerability buried deep under the hill that the Rebels hoped to exploit with their explosives. By locating the exact spot of the break, they planned to collapse the structure and—hopefully—crush the shield generator components within.

Derlin hadn't been thrilled with the backup plan to begin with, but held back on his concerns that it would be too difficult to find a precise location of the vulnerability in the heat of a battle, as he didn't have a better suggestion at the time. The capture of the AT-ST changed everything.

"Take some ropes with you," Derlin told Chewbacca as he took the pack of explosives back towards the walker. "You'll need two more men—you fire at the ground to burn away the layer above the bunker, and as soon as you spot the edge of the rear wall the others will jump down, plant the explosives, and run like hell. Got it?"

Chewbacca nodded.

"And you get out of their too," Derlin added. "Save the walker if you can, but don't get killed over it."

With a salute, Chewbacca swung his way back up the tree, the heavy bag flung over his shoulder. A moment later, he disappeared into the cockpit and then dropped two ropes.

"And I never thought that climbing unit in gym class would count for anything," one of the soldiers quipped as he grabbed on, rappelling upwards and standing for a moment on top of the walker to survey his surroundings. The second man followed quickly behind, and they both stepped into the cockpit.

"May the Force be with you," Derlin murmured as the AT-ST began treading back in the direction of the bunker. "May the Force be with us all." Next to him, Artoo tweeted in agreement.

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Three years previous, Luke was perplexed by the impact that the destruction of Alderaan had on Obi Wan Kenobi. He'd been too polite to say anything, but the older man's sudden weakness and nausea struck him as more than slightly melodramatic. Only now, as he reeled under the assault of hundreds of death screams pummeling him through space as the space station fired on the first Alliance cruiser, did he fully understand what Obi Wan was going through. Luke struggled not to drop to his knees, a wave of physical pain slamming into him as he watched his compatriots' lives snuffed out across the darkness of space. Vader stepped back, giving him some breathing room as Luke watched the ongoing battle in horror.

"I take it," the Emperor remarked mildly, "That your informants failed to mention that my battle station is fully armed and operational when they encouraged you to take on this ridiculous quest?"

Luke didn't respond. He put a hand on the viewport, looking over at Vader with an expression of betrayal and hurt on his face. His father turned away.

"You believe your spies are so talented as to infiltrate my security again?" Palpatine continued, "It was I who gave them the location of this Death Star. Your rebel friends have played right into my hands, boy. And now you will join me, or your friends will suffer the consequences."

Luke glared at the old man, and noticed that the Emperor looked irritated. Puzzled, Luke wondered when his friends would be brought in. Palpatine had been threatening it for a while now, and there was no sign of them.

"Vader!" the Emperor finally snapped. "Where are the prisoners?"

"They should be here now," Vader responded. "I am unaware of any cause for delay."

For a moment Luke's heart leapt. Maybe they had been rescued by the fleet. Forgetting himself, he reached out briefly, trying to find Leia amongst the chaos outside. Then he felt a surge of darkness—tempered by a tiny flicker of…curiosity? hope? …before he pulled back in horror. He turned around, his father standing directly behind him, the steady breathing the only sound in the room.

"Interesting," Vader murmured. Luke's eyes grew wide. How much had his father surmised from his brief lapse? "Family?" The boy froze, trying to clear his mind before his father could glean any more information. He wished for a moment that he had Leia's abilities to resist, then….No! he thought. Don't think about Leia!

"Your thoughts betray you, Lord Vader." The Emperor's voice cackled through the room. "What have you discovered?"

Luke's mouth dropped open. The Emperor must have sensed his father's curiosity and turmoil over Luke's accidental admission. With pleading eyes, he begged his father silently not to betray his sister to Palpatine.

"He believes his friends have escaped," Vader said flatly. "He is incorrect."

Luke's breath caught in his throat, relief filling his body. "Thank you, Father," he thought. He looked down, wondering what this turn of events implied.

"Forget it!" Palpatine spat. "I tire of these games. You will join us now, boy, or you will die."

Glancing confidently at Vader, Luke stood up a bit straighter. If his father could defy the Emperor, so could he.

"I'll never join you," Luke said, tossing his weapon aside. "I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

Palpatine shook his head, lifting both hands to point at Luke. "More's the pity," he sneered.

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A cloud of dirt exploded in front of them as Chewbacca aimed the turbolasers mounted on the front of the AT-ST at the ground and fired. The settling dust obscured the impact of the barrage, and Chewbacca cursed as he opened fire again. Over the communications system he could hear the frantic calls of the Imperials inside the bunker to the outside troops, demanding a report on who exactly was shooting at them. From what they could tell however, there had not yet been any damage to the interior of the facility.

"This isn't working," one of the Rebels remarked tightly, looking through the viewport to see if they'd made any progress in locating the seam between the roof and rear wall. "It's just tossing up dirt."

Chewbacca roared in agreement. At this rate reinforcements would arrive before they could even make a dent. In annoyance, he yanked a lever to the right of the pilot's seat, and the three occupants fell to the floor in a heap as the walker suddenly crouched close to the ground.

"Guess I figured out how to do that," Chewbacca muttered to himself. From their closer perspective, he could see that they had indeed merely succeeded in moving and loosening dirt. Time for Plan C.

As with most vehicles, spaceworthy or otherwise, the AT-ST had a large red button protected by a locked plastic cover, its purpose obvious from the number of precautions against accidental activation. With a roar, Chewbacca gestured for his companions to get out of the walker, then used brute strength to pry open the lid of the self-destruct.

"What are you doing?" one soldier asked as he scrambled out of Chewbacca's way. The specifics of Chewie's response in Shyriwook were lost on him, but he understood and obeyed the order to get the hell out of the way.

Ripping open the bag of explosives, Chewbacca activated them and then tossed them in a heap in the walker. They were meant to be attached to walls, but he was aiming for size, not precision. Then with one last silent request to the Wookiee deities he slammed a paw into the self-destruct button and swung himself out of the walker, grabbing a Rebel under each arm as he fled for the safety of the trees.

Seconds later, the walker burst apart with an explosion that pushed the trunks of the nearby conifers into graceful parabolas as a fireball filled the air. Sheltering behind an immense boulder, Chewbacca felt the shockwave rattle through his bones and teeth, watching as branches swayed in the sudden wind over a radius of hundreds of meters. As the sound disappeared into the woods, Chewie stood up to peek at his handiwork, then let out a cheer of victory.

The bunker was now open to the bright noontime sky, its former contents and occupants vaporized in the secondary fireball caused by the detonation of the pack of explosives that Chewie had set. The shield itself was invisible, but a glance at the carnage told the Rebels that the tide had turned. It was time for the final attack.

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Luke screamed as bolts of electricity gripped his body, throwing him to the ground as he convulsed under the onslaught. The Emperor edged closer, lightning pouring from his fingers as he blithely observed the young man's agony.

"Father!" Luke shrieked. "Father, help me!"

Vader was intimately familiar with the pain inflicted by the Emperor's ability to distill the power of the Dark Side into a burst of lightning that attacked the physical being while enveloping the mind in a cloak of darkness. It was just discipline, he told himself, distracted again as he pondered Luke's inadvertent revelation.

It was ironic that for so many years he had avoided engaging with the princess because of her resemblance to his late wife. Not just her appearance, but her passion for politics, her rising star status at such a young age….he hated her because he worried that people would see her and forget all about Padme and everything she'd accomplished. Soon, he had mused angrily, young senators would be a credit a dozen and Padme's legacy would be lost to the ages. And because of him, her political legacy was all she had left. It was all he could do to keep himself from destroying the young Alderaani woman the day she was sworn in. When he finally was forced to confront her over her participation in the Rebellion, he relished finally having an opportunity to punish her for her arrogance and disrespect.

But Fate has a sense of irony, he acknowledged. Of course Leia was his daughter. It was a gift and a chastisement all at once. His family was alive, nearly whole, but—like her mother—his daughter would be lost to him forever because of his cruelty.

Luke screamed again, drawing Vader's attention back to the present. The Emperor was standing over the boy, watching him as he tried to break away from the relentless attack.

"Don't worry," Palpatine said, cutting off the flow of sparking electricity for a brief moment. "I won't kill you before your friends arrive. I'm sure you want to watch them die first." He lunged forward, restarting his assault as Luke pleaded with his father for help.

Vader stood, seemingly impassive, as he considered the Emperor's words. True, he'd planned on using the princess and the smuggler in any way necessary to turn his son, but now…Leia had suffered enough. He had to keep his daughter away from his master.

No. Looking at Palpatine, he suddenly realized that the old man had been lying to him from the beginning. The emperor said he had killed his wife, but if she had died on Mustafar, how were there now two living children fighting for a cause she would have believed in? Never again would he call that man his master.

Luke shuddered and then lay horrifyingly still as his father lunged at Palpatine, the old man's frail body crumpling in his grasp. He could feel the Force swirling around him like a maelstrom, Palpatine's fury crackling on the edges as he fought the inclination to simply crush the Emperor like a bug. Instead, he lifted him overhead, offering him like a sacrifice as he flung the Sith into the raging plasma field of the power core that pulsed through the throne room. With an explosion of hate and anger and overwhelming terror, his presence in the Force dissipated into a black fog, sending a tremor through the superstructure of the station.

"Father," Luke called weakly, and smiled as the black clad man rushed to his side. "You saved me."

The darkness still pulling at him like quicksand, he didn't respond, merely stroking Luke's sweaty forehead. The two men remained in silence for a moment, until another sudden tremor rocked the room around them. Pushing himself to his feet with a groan, Luke limped to the viewport and grinned as he saw a wave of laser fire from one of the Rebel ships pound the hull of the Death Star unimpeded.

"The shield is down!" he cried happily, grinning at his father.

"Then we must leave, now. I won't have you die here."

Shaking, Luke marveled at the sudden transformation of his father. He could feel the lingering conflict, the regret and shame and pain that tormented him. He took a step closer, and then, surprising them both, pulled his father into a tight embrace. For a moment there was no reaction, and then Luke felt a gloved hand patting him on the back.

"We must leave," he repeated, his vocal modulator revealing little emotion. Luke nodded.

"How are we going to get past those guards?"

"Leave that to me. Just follow my lead." Without warning, he snatched Luke by the collar, alarming the young man briefly until he gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

The doors slid open, the Crimson Guard standing at attention as they marched out.

"His Majesty demands solitude." He kept his order short, quickly shutting the door behind him as he pulled Luke away. Luke quickly picked up on the ruse and pretended to struggle slightly before plastering a resigned look on his face. They turned a corner, and his father released him.

"This corridor will take us to the shuttle bay," he said, walking ahead briskly as Luke tried to keep up. His arms and legs were still tingling from the Emperor's attack, but he would deal with that later. Right now he was with his father and the Emperor was dead. That was all that mattered.

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Lando Calrissian blew out a nervous breath as he acknowledged the order to proceed from Admiral Ackbar. If he thought about it long enough, he would realize that he was probably more scared of Han Solo should he fail to return the Millennium Falcon in one piece than he was of the Imperials. But there was no time for such musings at the moment. Instead, he told his Sullustan copilot, who looked comically tiny in Chewbacca's oversized chair, to check in with the snub fighters trailing them as he plunged into the crevice that would take them to the battle station's core.

"All squadrons checked in," Nien Nunb reported.

Lando activated the comm. "Follow my lead and keep the TIEs off our tail," he ordered. "Stay tight and let's blow this thing." As practice, he fired a few turbolaser shots at the interior hull, watching the resulting explosions with grim pride. "That'll knock them off their feet," he crowed.

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Luke was moving at a dead run, wondering how he'd been cursed with such short legs in spite of his towering father when the other man suddenly turned, throwing himself over Luke. A split second later the wall next to them exploded, sending a blast of flame and shrapnel towards them. Luke shook his head clear, pulling himself out from under his father as the station's firefighting systems kicked in, sealing off the puncture and dropping foam onto the remaining flames.

For a moment, Luke had a hard time seeing through the smoke. "Father, I'm fine," he said, trying to pull the man to his feet. Then as a fan began sucking away the remaining murky air, Luke gasped , dropping to his knees.

The black suit that had protected his father's injured body was in ruins, the back melted away under the heat of the explosion. The helmet was blown half off, and his breath came in gasping heaves.

"Father!" Luke gently turned the man, wincing as he felt the hot plastic that had melted onto his neck.

"Luke." His voice was raspy. "Luke, go on. Leave me."

"No!" Luke tried to pull his father to his feet. "Father, I won't leave you! You can't die."

"I…" The words wouldn't come out. "Luke, help me take this mask off. It's useless now anyways."

"But…"

"Luke." His father's voice was firm. "Let me look on you with my own eyes."

Holding back tears, Luke gently tugged the top portion of the mask up and cast it aside. Blue eyes, looking much like his own, peered back from the ruined face.

"I'm so sorry, Luke," he said, his voice softer and reedier without the mask. "Now go."

"I won't leave you behind like this. You saved my life."

"Your sister needs you, Luke," he insisted. "It's my fault. She's on the Chimaera. Go to her before it's too late."

Luke's hand went to his mouth as his father closed his eyes. The station shook again, alarms wailing as the impact of the Alliance assault became clear. He could see the shuttle bay only a few dozen meters away. A moment later, he made his decision. He wasn't going to leave his father behind.

Gripping the heavy body, he walked backwards towards the shuttle bay. Crowds of staff and troopers poured past him, ignoring the odd spectacle of a Jedi carrying the dead former Sith as they fled certain death. Commandeering a shuttle, Luke dragged his tragic cargo on board and shot out into space.

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"They've ordered an evac of non-essentials!" With Solo unconscious, the troopers and pilot on board the shuttle decided to ignore all protocol and just talk in front of Leia as if she wasn't there. She tried not to grin, not wanting to further antagonize the jumpy men in such a fluctuating situation.

"Hail the Chimaera," the head trooper ordered. "See if you can find out what's going on."

The pilot tried twice, then sighed in exasperation. "They're not responding."

"What the hell?" the junior trooper said frantically. "What do we do?"

His superior officer glanced back at Leia, who stared back at him stonily, then turned to the pilot. "Set a course for Imperial Center. We can regroup there and turn them over to the ruling council until his Majesty is able to give us further orders."

"Yessir." The pilot seemed relieved to have an option that involved getting away from the increasingly pitched battle. With a final glance back at the capital ships in the distance, he accelerated away from the system, transitioning the shuttle smoothly into hyperspace. A second later, a massive explosion rocked the entire system. The Death Star was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Corellian engineers were among the first to make hyperdrive technology practical for everyday use, and the systems residents were still inordinately proud of their contribution to the construction of the galactic village. As a notoriously competitive subrace of humans, Corellians were also among the first to innovate means of measuring relative velocities in the abstract dimensions of hyperspace, which, naturally, quickly translated into racing. A favorite challenge in modern times was an attempt to beat a massless packet of information—typically containing the announcement that the race had commenced—to a previously determined starting point. Regular updates to the efficiency of the holonet under the Empire meant that no one had successfully won one of these races in more than two decades, and previous records remained under significant suspicion of cheating, leading many philosophers to intone the now common adage: "nothing travels faster than knowledge."

While this saying was about to become exceptionally relevant to Leia Organa, at the moment it was one of the last things on her mind. The first thing on her mind was her concern for Han Solo, who was still unconscious and who was rapidly developing a monstrous looking black eye. Her second concern, which she had been successfully ignoring since their capture on Endor, was becoming more pressing by the minute.

She sized up the trooper who was sitting in front of her, not bothering to stay at attention as he took a shift guarding the prisoners. He looked as dejected as one could hidden behind the faceless mask. She opted to make her request, figuring the worst he could do at this point was shoot her, and that seemed unlikely.

"Hey," she said abruptly, noting with some amusement that the stormtrooper jerked slightly in surprise. He must have been dozing. "I have to pee."

"Can't you wait?" he responded gruffly.

"Not if we're going all the way to Coruscant," she responded, deliberately using Imperial Center's true name to see if it got a reaction. He didn't seem to notice. "Will you just take me to the 'fresher?"

"I'll have to ask," he muttered, making no move to get up.

"What do you think I'm going to do, run away?"

"Maybe."

"In hyperspace? With no weapons? Outnumbered three to one? Really?"

"Maybe."

"Wow," Leia said finally, flexing her muscles to stretch them as best as she could while strapped into the chair. "You think really highly of me. Maybe you should ask one of your buddies in the cockpit if they feel tough enough to guard me for thirty seconds while I use the 'fresher."

Logic hadn't worked, but insulting his manhood did. The trooper stood up, reaching behind the chair to detach the cuffs binding her to the chair and yanking her upright by the upper arm. He led her to the back of the ship, pushing her into the tiny 'fresher unit and closing the door behind her. "Hurry up," he barked.

A minute later he was walking her back to her seat when the door to the cockpit slid open. The pilot, the only Imperial not decked out in full trooper gear, sauntered in.

"What the hell?" he asked. "You're not supposed to release them?"

"It's fine," mumbled the trooper, shoving Leia back into the chair and snapping the cuffs back around her wrists.

"There were specific orders not to touch her," the pilot continued, "They even told me that. Twice. You are going to be in some serious deep…"

"He just took me to the 'fresher," Leia interrupted, realizing what the pilot was implying. "So don't get any ideas."

"Honey, you are flattering yourself if you think I'm interested," the pilot sneered. "I like my women full sized."

Wanting to take advantage of the fact that she had them talking, Leia turned back to the trooper. "He'd know the answer to my question," she said brightly.

"Question? What question?" the trooper asked in confusion as the pilot laughed.

"Nice try, honey," he said, leaning over her, "But everything on this ship is on a need-to-know basis." He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Maybe you'd be more comfortable if you took a little nap like your boyfriend there."

At that moment, Han let out a loud snore. The pilot laughed.

"I thought you needed me unharmed when you hand me over to your Imperial masters," Leia responded, whipping her head to the side to free herself from his grip. He twitched his nose.

"I'm sure they'd understand if I let them know what a pain in the ass you are." He cuffed her on the back of the head, hard enough to send her flailing forward uncomfortably as her progress was halted by the metal binders.

"What the hell is going on back there?" The other trooper opened the cockpit door and leaned back into the cabin. Giving his two companions a suspicious look, he waved them both up into the front of the shuttle. "Leave them for a minute. They aren't going anywhere." The pilot shot Leia a dirty look as he marched back up front, slapping hard on the button to close the door behind him.

"Unghhhh." Han moaned, his head flopping back as he blinked. Adjusting herself back into a better position, Leia sent a prayer of thanks that he hadn't been awake to see the pilot smack her on the head. He probably would have gotten himself killed.

"Han?" she said softly, turning as far as she could towards him. He groaned again.

"What? Where?"

"We're still on the shuttle," she told him, keeping her voice low so as not to exacerbate what she assumed was a mighty headache. "They're taking us to Coruscant."

"Why?" Han blinked as he looked over at her, fighting a wave of nausea would have threatened to empty his stomach—if there had been anything in it.

"The Imperial fleet was in chaos," she explained, a grin lighting up her face. "They couldn't raise any of the Destroyers…Han, I think we might have done it."

"Shh," he warned her. "Don't get too optimistic yet. We don't know what's going on."

"I think you are the first person to ever accuse me of being an optimist," she said. Then her smile disappeared. "They're going to hand us over to the ruling council."

"Why?" Han was perplexed. "Those guys are just a bunch of weirdos."

"Weirdos that have been running the galaxy," Leia corrected. "Weirdos to whom Imperial Intelligence reports. Weirdos that are going to be next in the chain of command if by some chance we did take out both Palpatine and Vader."

"Okay, I get it," Han interrupted. "So what do we do?"

She ducked her head down, carefully watching the door to the cockpit. "They let me up to use the 'fresher. The release for the cuffs is somewhere in the back of the chair. Maybe if you could get up, you could get me loose and we could try to take them down?"

Han thought for a minute. "What's to keep them from just shooting us?"

Leia shrugged in response. "I don't have a better plan at the moment….General."

"So now you're respecting my rank? Thanks, sweetheart."

"That's not…Han…" she sputtered, "I already apologized for getting us into this mess. What do you want me to do?"

He sighed, leaning back in his seat and trying to ignore the throbbing bruises on his face. "You don't need to apologize, princess. It's not your fault." He looked at her, noticing that she was blinking back tears. "We'll get out of this, okay?" He leaned as close her as possible. "If nothing else, they're going to have to get us up when they move us out planetside. Maybe I could stage a diversion, pretend to pass out or make a run for it, and you could get away while they're dealing with me."

She shook her head. "Han, I'm not leaving you. I just got you back."

He opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "Okay. Then we'll think of something else." Before he could continue, the door slid open and a trooper came in, settling himself silently in front of the prisoners. Leia took a deep breath, closing her eyes and wondering if she'd be able to sleep. It was going to be a long trip.

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Egged on by the infamously lively Rogues, most of the snubfighter pilots who had survived the battle and landed on the Sanctuary Moon were already partly to completely drunk by the time Luke slipped into the celebration at the Ewok village. Wedge Antilles stumbled into him, wrapping Luke in a massive hug before hiccupping and returning to the crowd gathered near the scrounged supply of various intoxicants that the Rebels had donated to the cause.

He stood on tiptoes, looking for Chewbacca when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Lando!" Luke shook the man's hand heartily before pulling him into a quick embrace.

"I'm glad I found you," Lando said as a young Ewok glommed onto his tailored pants. "Where's Han? I wanted to give him back his ship…unharmed, as promised."

The look on Luke's face wiped the smile from Lando's. "He's missing. Leia too. I think they were captured," Luke said somberly.

Freeing himself from the Ewok, Lando pulled Luke aside. "What do you mean, captured?" He looked up with horror at the fiery debris marking the previous location of the Death Star. "Were they onboard that thing when it blew?"

"I don't think so," Luke said. "I think…I hope…they're still alive." He closed his eyes, reaching out and trying to find Leia among the chaotic swirl of life and death and joy and darkness. "They were taken to one of the ISDs, the Chimaera."

"How do you know?" Lando whispered, guiding Luke towards a quieter platform.

"I…just trust me," Luke told him. How was he supposed to tell Lando that the reason he knew was because Vader had told him, and the reason Vader cared was because Leia was his daughter? "Have you seen Chewie?"

He got his answer in the form of a roar, as Chewie burst out of the crowd towards Luke and Lando. Artoo and Threepio followed closely behind. He was shouting, but his words were lost in the dull roar of the celebrating crowd behind him.

"Slow down, Chewie," Luke said, putting a hand on one hairy arm and looking pleadingly at Threepio.

"He expresses his great happiness for your safety, Master Luke," the droid said obligingly, "And wants to know where General Solo and Mistress Leia are."

"Captured," Lando spat out before Luke could respond. "And the whole godsdamned Imp fleet is gone."

Chewie roared again, this time letting out a wordless cry of anguish. Luke hung his head, knowing the Wookiee was as worried and anxious as he was about the missing Rebels.

"We'll find them," Luke said, trying to sound reassuring. "We'll head up to the Alliance High Command right now and let them know we're going. We can take the Falcon."

"Master Luke, are you sure you have appropriate authorities to do that?" Threepio said, ignoring Artoo's scolding as he spoke. "The Millennium Falcon is the private property of General Solo, and as a commissioned officer in the Alliance, his ship is subject to be commandeered as necessary…"

"They must not have told him that," Luke broke in. "He never would have accepted the position."

Lando chuckled. "You can say that again. But Luke, we need to slow down here. We have no idea where they might have gone."

Chewie let loose with a string of invectives that Threepio diligently tried to translate until his anti-profanity program stopped him from sharing anything other than a few words here and there. Lando stepped back, unsure whether the Wookiee had given up on his promise not to rip his head off. He looked to Luke for support, but the typically staid young Jedi looked almost as agitated as Chewbacca.

"High command will know how to track the Chimaera," Luke insisted. "We can't just leave them."

Growling in agreement, Chewie followed Luke off the platform and down to the forest floor, Lando and the droids in close pursuit. Luke wound his way past the various Rebels who were streaming in from the ad-hoc landing platform to join the party, ignoring efforts to shake his hand in congratulations as he searched for the Falcon.

The ship was crammed in next to a pair of X-wings and another light freighter, barely leaving enough room to open the boarding ramp. With a Force-aided shove, Luke nudged the snub fighters out of the way and stepped aside to allow Chewbacca to begin the warm up sequence.

"High command gave Leia enough trouble trying to get official permission to go rescue Han last time," Lando continued to grumble as he followed the Wookiee on board. "What's to say they're not just going to put their foot down this time?"

"You don't have to come," Luke snapped back. Lando raised his hands.

"That's not what I mean. I just wonder if it might be better to beg forgiveness than ask permission."

With a loud sigh, Luke dropped into the pilot's seat, watching Chewie begin the startup procedure. "I just don't know how we'll be able to track a single Star Destroyer in time without their help. And it's Leia…of course they'll want us to go after her."

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"Commander Skywalker, I understand—and share—your deep concern, but this is a delicate time for us." Mon Mothma looked out of the viewport of the small conference room of Home One. "We need all of our assets available so we can take advantage of this opportunity. And as the last of the Jedi, you are a critical part of those assets."

Luke took a deep breath, trying to let the Force calm him. Lando had been right about High Command pushing back on his request to activate their spy network to find the Star Destroyer.

"And sadly, we have no idea if the Princess and Capt…General Solo are still alive," Mothma continued. "The Emperor may have been bluffing when he threatened to harm them."

Desperate for an edge, Luke had told Mothma about his confrontation with Palpatine and the Emperor's attempt to use his friends as pawns in his attempt to turn Luke to the Dark Side. He held back on revealing his relationship to Palpatine's apprentice, only saying that he'd been able to escape in the chaos of the Rebel attack. But while Mothma was intrigued by the evidence that Han and Leia were still alive when the Rebel fleet arrived over Endor, she wasn't convinced. He tried again.

"I can feel them through the Force when they're near," he said to her. "I would know if they died."

She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Luke, I'm sorry. But they wouldn't have wanted to risk the future of the Alliance in any event. Or the future of the Jedi."

"One Jedi is hardly a future," Luke said sullenly. He turned to leave. "I hope you'll reconsider. Leia would never leave you to rot in Imperial custody." She looked at the floor as he walked out, holding the door open for the next meeting to come in after him.

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"Now my head hurts."

"I'm sorry. I thought it would work."

"It didn't."

"It's not my fault."

"I think I'm going to throw up."

"Go ahead. We could do with a little color around the place."

"Han!"

Lacking a better option, Han had tried Leia's trick for getting out of his chair. Instead of waiting patiently to be freed, however, he had gotten one arm loose from his binders and reached around to smack the button on the back of Leia's chair. As she leapt up, the trooper quickly closed the binders on Han's seat, keeping him attached by one arm. She rushed the trooper only to be met with a blaster butt to the head that sent her crumpling to the floor. She woke up a while later to another pounding headache. The only silver lining seemed to be their abandonment by the troops, who she hoped intended to leave them alone until they reached their destination.

"How much longer until we reach Coruscant?" she asked wearily.

"I don't know how fast they're pushing this thing," Han admitted. "We were pretty far out—could be a while yet…..or…" he added, as the ship thumped and shook in the familiar sensation of reverting to realspace, "Maybe we're here."

The cockpit door remained closed tightly as they slowed and then gently curved around, presumably heading for one of the many military spaceports that dotted the capital planet.

"Does my head look bad?" Leia asked as they dropped suddenly, sending her already tender stomach into a tailspin. "I feel like crap."

"You've got a good goose egg," Han told her. "How about me?"

"An impressive shiner. We're going to be quite the pair."

The ship settled in on the ground, the engines humming to a stop. Quickly the two troopers came into the cabin, unfastening their prisoners from the chairs and slapping binders on them.

"Quickly now," the lead trooper said, holding tightly to Han as the boarding ramp opened. His partner was practically dragging Leia as she struggled to keep on her feet.

"What the hell?" The hangar was deserted, but Han could a dull roar outside that he couldn't quite place, punctuated by the distinct booms of small explosions. "Where are your buddies? Shouldn't they be here to meet us?"

"Move it!" the trooper shouted, shoving his blaster in Han's back.

The pilot leaned out after them, shouting through the open cabin door. "I'm going to take the shuttle around to the south platform on the palace."

"Stay here! That's an order." The trooper holding Han turned around and bellowed, but the pilot had already disappeared into the shuttle and was preparing to launch. Shaking his head, he turned to his companion. "Call ahead to the palace security forces and have them send a vehicle immediately."

The junior trooper looped an arm around Leia's elbow, holding onto her as he activated his comlink. "Palace security, this is A4219, come in. Palace security, requesting back up."

"Maybe they're on a lunch break," Han suggested as the two troopers waited for a response. Glancing at his black eye, Leia gave him a warning look to shut up.

"A4219, come in!" The comm crackled to life.

"This is A4219. We need an armored vehicle for a prisoner transfer at the north hangar ASAP. A4219, over."

"Negative," the voice responded. "You'll need to contact the south side armory. We can't spare a vehicle right now."

Another rumble outside the hangar caught the attention of all four, and the trooper cut off the link in disgust. "What is going on out there?" Without waiting for orders, he walked briskly over to the pedestrian exit, dragging Leia along with him.

"No, wait!" The other trooper let go of Han as he sprinted forward to stop his partner. But it was too late. He pulled open the door, blaster drawn in readiness to deal with any rowdy crowds outside, and fell as the trampling feet of hundreds of rioting, celebrating Coruscantis poured through the door and over the hapless trooper.

Leia yanked free as he fell, trying to pull herself up with her wrists still tightly bound in front of her. She yelped as a heavy boot landed on the side of her calf, pushing her downwards. Men and women, mostly human but speckled with other species, were streaming in, heading straight for the shuttle. In a panic, the pilot lifted off, spraying the room with hot air from the engines, but the crowd was undaunted. They peppered the shuttle with rocks and debris, a few brave souls even trying to cling to the side as it rose higher into the air.

As it made its way out of the hangar, attention turned to the two troopers, who found themselves in the center of an inexplicably hostile crowd. The lead trooper stood, looking for Han, who had yanked himself away in the chaos and was wending his way through the press of bodies to find Leia. In a last desperate attempt to restore order, he fired his blaster into the air. "In the name of the Emperor, stand down!" he hollered. Those were his last words.

"Leia!" Han screamed, holding his bound hands in front of his face to protect himself as the crowd surged forward, swallowing the two troopers in a blitz of pounding fists and cudgels. "Leia!"

Across the room, Leia grabbed onto the leg fur of a passing Wookiee, trying to pull herself upright before she was trampled by the crowd. The Wookiee roared in pain as Leia yanked, flipping the Princess backwards into the wall of the hangar. Ignoring the sudden pain in her ribs, she used her legs to push herself to standing, then clambered on top of a pile of crates to try to find Han.

The crowd compressed further and further into the middle of the room, leaving Leia with breathing space but no closer to finding Han. Suddenly he burst out from between a pair of young women who were swinging clubs that looked to be made from landspeeder fenders, spotting Leia with a look of relief. She hopped down beside him, wincing.

"See, I told you I'd think of something," he said with a cocky grin, grabbing her lower arm with one of his hands. "Let's get out of here."

"Nerfherder," she muttered in response as she sprinted along side him, leaning in for support as she stumbled over discarded rubble from the crowd.

They dashed out of the door, fleeing around the outside platform that formed the circumference of the landing area. It was windy, and Han took a minute to enjoy the feeling of fresh air after being shipboard for so long. Ever practical, Leia looked around, trying to determine their exact location. They were near the government core, to the north of the massive plaza that led into Palpatine's Imperial palace. As they rounded a corner, Leia stopped suddenly, looking below.

"Oh my…." As they stood silently, watching the pulsing sea of beings drawing in the plaza begin shooting fireworks into the air, Leia turned to Han. "I think we killed the Emperor."


	7. Chapter 7

Transfixed, they both watched as the massive statue of the Emperor that had loomed over the plaza as long as Leia could remember toppled, the stone face shattering as a crowd of cheering protestors scattered away. The collapse shook the platform where they stood, bringing Han out of his near trance. A moment later, he flung himself towards Leia, knocking them both down as a volley of blaster fire sprayed the crowd. Pushing herself up on her elbows, Leia peeked out, seeing a line of stormtroopers assembling on a balcony opposite them.

"We have to get out of here," she said as Han got himself onto hands and knees. She gestured with her head at the cuffs still binding both their wrists. "Any ideas how to get these off?"

"Ideas, yes," Han said, rising to his feet and then leaning over to help Leia up. "Tools, no." He crouched down, keeping behind the low metal wall that enclosed the platform around the landing platform and hangar. The cheers of the crowd were quickly transitioning to screams as the frequency of blaster fire increased. Risking a glance, Han saw that the hordes of people who had filled the plaza were now crushing into side streets and buildings, trying desperately to get away from the growing onslaught from above.

"They're getting slaughtered down there," he muttered. Leia didn't react, realizing there was little to be done at the moment. "Let's head for the underground. We can figure out what to do next from there."

"The underground?" Leia waved her bound hands in front of him, as though he somehow could have forgotten their current situation. "We won't last five minutes down there like this."

"You want to just stroll up to some troopers and ask them to please unlock us?" he retorted. "It's not a great idea, I realize, but if you can think of anything better…." She pursed her lips but stayed silent. "I know people. We'll find someone to help us out."

"I know people too," she told him tersely. "I'm just concerned about what happens before we find them."

He stopped, resting back on his heels to give his aching legs a break. "Just trust me. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Her reaction was the last thing he would have predicted. She collapsed forward, breaking down in hysterical laughter. She tried to speak, but couldn't get the words out.

"Glad you can find this funny," he said, shaking his head in disgust.

"I….I'm sorry…." she said, her voice high with giggles. "I just…this…have you ever seen anything more ridiculous?"

"I beg your pardon?" he responded, imitating the Core accent and mannerism she sometimes affected when meeting with particularly obnoxious planetary leaders.

"Look at us, Han. We have no weapons and we're running around in binders in the heart of the Empire. What hope do we have?"

"We're better off than we were a few hours ago," he reminded here. "Let's have a little optimism here, okay? We've gotten out of tighter situations."

Breathing deeply to try to quiet her laughter, Leia looked into Han's eyes. She was surprised to see how intensely he was watching her. "You really think we're going to be okay, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"I'm damn well not giving up," he responded. "Not now."

"Okay." Leia pushed herself up, following him further along the platform. "If you say so. Let's go."

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"There are a hundred places they could have gone," Lando said dejectedly, looking up at Chewie with a certain wariness. The Wookiee had reacted violently when Luke reported that Alliance high command wouldn't authorize a rescue mission for Han and Leia, and they had only recently gotten him calmed down. Thankfully the only casualty was Threepio, who had broken an easily replaceable joint when Chewbacca pitched him into a wall.

Luke sat quietly, his eyes closed, reaching out into the Force for any sense of his sister. He was certain she was still alive, but beyond that his only belief was that she was long gone from the Endor system. The Imperial ships that remained after the explosion of the Death Star had fled, and he presumed that she and Han were still being held with the fleet. He hoped they were at least still together.

"We can't go hopping all over the galaxy again," Luke said finally. "I don't know if we have the time for that."

"They wouldn't kill them," Lando insisted. "They're too valuable as prisoners at this point."

"So you just want to wait for a ransom note?" Chewie growled. "Coward."

Lando's hackles went up at the Wookiee's accusation. "I'm just trying to approach this in a way that isn't stupid," he said angrily.

"You're saying I'm stupid?" Chewbacca stood, making Lando immediately regret his words. Seeing that the situation was rapidly deteriorating, Luke stood between the two combatants.

"Fighting isn't going to get them back. Lando, you must know some people that can help us track the fleet?" Luke looked at him hopefully. "All we need to know is where ISD Chimaera went."

Lando thought for a minute. "I've burned a lot of contacts lately. I'm not sure if there's anyone…."

Chewbacca roared at him, pushing against Luke as he tried to keep the two separated.

"Okay, let me see what I can do," he said finally.

"I'll see what I can glean from people around here," Luke added. "Let's meet up back here in an hour."

"Don't know what I can get in an hour," Lando mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the still-seething Wookiee.

"Me neither," Luke assured him, "But we have to try."

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"I have a bad feeling about this." Leia stood in the door of the lift, making no move to get out. The door chimed, protesting her inaction as it tried to shut repeatedly only to bounce back when it sensed the princess in the way. Han stood outside, wishing he had a better way to disguise the binders that were hobbling his ability to defend himself against any comers.

"Just pretend it's a garbage chute," he said impatiently, coughing in the dank air. "Really not that different if you think about it."

"At least we had weapons then," she sighed, stepping towards him. They kept their backs to the wall as they made their way into the bustle of the underground street, which seemed unaffected by the unprecedented events several hundred floors above. Still wearing her poncho, Leia was able to wrap the cloth around her hands, making her look slightly less defenseless. "Where to, hotshot?"

Han bit his lip. He hadn't been lying about having contacts in the underground, but his information was out of date. Normally he'd saunter into a watering hole and make inquiries, but he could hardly do that in his current condition, much less take a pretty young woman along with him. "Let's see if we can find something to pick these with," he told her. "Look for a thin piece of metal."

"Aren't they magnetic?" Leia protested. "How can you pick an electromagnet?"

"I can try, can't I?"

Leia sighed. "Sounds like I'm not going to be able to talk you out of it."

Side by side, they walked into an alley, scanning the ground for any bit of debris that might be useful in freeing themselves from their bonds. Han stopped every few meters and scanned the surrounding area. Denizens of the underground were skilled at sneaking up on unsuspecting victims, and the last thing they needed was to get jumped by some thug.

"Here." Leia bent over, grabbing out a long pin that was protruding from a pile of trash dumped around a cardboard box that was leaned up against a wall. "Will this work?"

Han walked over to her, taking the pin and looking at it closely. "Worth a try. Gimme your hands."

"Don't poke me," she warned as he found the clasp and began fiddling with the latch. "I hate to think of what sort of germs might be on that thing."

"Doin' my best," he responded tightly as he wiggled the pin, not willing to yet admit that Leia's analysis of the situation had been correct. He knew some people had gotten out of magnetic cuffs by purposely electrocuting themselves, but that strategy often went badly. He leaned in close, trying to see how the cuffs latched together, when Leia suddenly cried out in surprise.

"What?" he asked, looking up as Leia fell backwards, landing on her rear as a shadowy figure yanked her downwards. He lifted his hands, planning to use the heavy metal cuffs as a weapon, then grunted as something small and heavy slammed into his stomach, knocking him backwards as well.

"Mine!" A high pitched voice screeched into Han's ear as a pair of sharp clawed, furry paws wrenched the pin from his hand. Han used his feet to swing himself upright, staring into the eyes of a ratlike creature that was continuing to scream angrily at him. "Mine! Mine!"

Han shoved it away. "Fine, it's yours. Go away."

"Han," Leia said with trepidation. She was staring over his shoulder. "What are they?"

He twisted around, watching as moving shadows coalesced into more of the little creatures. Smaller than Jawas, the creatures had rodent-like noses and matted fur, and sniffed the air as they approached the two humans. He couldn't help but cringe as one of them examined his cuffs, bringing its nose in close as it peered at the metal.

"Mine."

"Hey, buddy," Han said, "If you can get them off, they're all yours."

"Mine." Another of the creatures stepped forward, circling Leia suspiciously and occasionally reaching out to touch the binders around her wrists. A soft squeaking noise from the cardboard box caught her attention, and she looked over to see three smaller versions of the creatures—babies, it appeared—peeking out at her.

"I think that was their treasure pile," she said softly. "What do we do?"

"No sudden moves," Han told her. One of the creatures began sniffing his face, its whiskers inching down towards his nose. Without warning, he sneezed violently.

Immediately the rodent pack fell on them, some trampling their companions and others shoving through to grab at the two shiny sets of binders. Leia swung her arms, trying in vain to push them away as she disappeared beneath a pile of the creatures. Han stood momentarily before being yanked to the ground, his arms wrenched over his head as a group of the creatures collaborated to drag him off into the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Leia scrunched up her face, cringing in disgust as yet more of the wiry-furred creatures swarmed over her. She tried scaring them off by screaming, but that tactic merely resulted in her nearly choking on a wad of foul smelling hairs that got sucked into her throat as she took a breath. She could hear Han continuing to shout as they were dragged down the alley. Something, or somethings, was holding onto her binders and the ligaments in her shoulders burned as her body scraped over the bumpy ground. Suddenly they stopped.

"Mine! Mine!" screeched a cacophony of voices, and the beings fell on her as Leia forgot herself and screamed in horror. Tiny claws scraped at her wrists and ankles, and for a moment she thought this was finally the end.

"There! Beat it! Get the hell out of here!" As Leia was closing her eyes, waiting to breathe her last, the heavy weight of her attackers disappeared. She heard them skittering off down the alley, squeaking triumphantly, and then a strong pair of hands lifted her to her feet.

"Little bastards," Han grumbled. "If that was all they wanted they didn't have to kidnap us."

Astonished, Leia looked down at her wrists. The binders were gone.

"How….?" she asked incredulously, "Did they do that?"

"Yeah." Han brushed tufts of fur and clumps of muck and garbage off her as best as he could before taking her hand and leading her back towards the main thoroughfare. "Just took 'em apart. Must be some kind of metal scavengers."

Noticing her boots felt loose, Leia glanced down at her feet. The boot laces hung to the ground, dragging behind her. "They got the hooks off my shoes too," she said. "Guess that's a small price to pay."

Han nudged her. "Told you I'd take care of it."

Trying to glare at him, Leia chuckled. "That's the second time today you've taken credit for a barely averted disaster."

Shrugging, Han said, "Barely averted disaster is my middle name, sweetheart."

They walked on in silence for a moment, clinging close together. Multiple times Han felt for his blaster instinctually as an ominous growling or crying echoed down the alley. This was not a place to travel unarmed.

"Do you know where we are?" Leia asked quietly.

"Coruscant," Han responded, hoping for a smile.

"Han, be serious for once. We need to find shelter."

"We will," he told her sternly. "No worrying. I think we're still generally under the Palace District—didn't you say you had some contacts down here? Are they around this zone?"

Leia thought a moment. "My primary contact has likely moved, I imagine. I got him into a bit of mess recently—I'd hate to do that again."

Han scoffed. "How recently could it have been? You haven't been to Coruscant in years…"

"Actually," she confessed, reddening, "I was here for a short while recently. Just before we got you away from Jabba." Seeing Han's skeptical look, she added, "With Luke. And Chewie. And Lando. I was perfectly safe."

"I have no idea how the bunch of you managed to survive so long without me around to keep you out of trouble," Han responded. "But never mind. I think I've got somebody we can ask. Just gotta find her."

"Her?" Now it was Leia's turn to be skeptical. "Old girlfriend?"

"Nah, nothing that serious," he teased. "Don't worry, she won't feel threatened by you."

"You sure?" Leia asked. "I think I look pretty frightening right now."

Han stopped, clasping her hands and turning her to face him. The bruise on her forehead was swollen and purple, and scratches crisscrossed her face. Mud and other unidentifiable goo was plastered over her head and mashed into her hair, and her clothes looked and smelled like she'd gone for a swim in the sewer. "You're beautiful," he said with a smile.

"And you're very handsome," she replied with a wry grin, pulling back as he leaned into kiss her, "But you need to brush your teeth if you're going to try that."

"What? You kissed me when you got me out of carbonite and I know for a fact my breath was way worse then."

"I hadn't seen you in months then," she explained. "It was hard to wait."

"And now?"

"Now we need to find that girlfriend of yours and see if she'll loan you a toothbrush."

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Luke was waiting dejectedly with Chewbacca and the droids when Lando came strolling in, whistling casually.

"The fleet split up: Coruscant, Carida, and the Kuati shipyards," Lando announced proudly. "Most of the damaged ships went to Kuat, and apparently Chimaera took some good hits." As Chewie began growling, Lando added quickly, "No severe damage though."

"How did you find that out so quickly?" Luke asked, genuinely impressed. "You must have some good contacts!"

"Well, yes," Lando said with false modesty, "But it was simpler than that. I just pulled rank…." Luke raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I told Rieekan what was going on. He was pissed about Mothma refusing to send someone after Leia and got me the full intelligence report."

"So we're off to Kuat," Luke said, standing up.

"Not so fast. We can't just stroll in there in the Falcon. We'd be shot down before you could blink." Lando stood between Luke and the door. "And what are you going to do when you get there? Just storm every Star Destroyer til you find them?"

"It's worked before," Luke mumbled.

"I have a guy on Belnar who owes me a favor," Lando continued. "Let's at least swap ships and try to do this somewhat strategically."

"So we get to Belnar and then what?" Chewie growled. "They could be dead by then, or on their way to Kessel."

"If they were going to kill them, they already would have," Lando told him. "Right now the Chimaera is our only link. It's the best we can do."

Grumbling irritably, Chewie got up to follow him. The three of them, tailed by the two uncharacteristically quiet droids, walked down the busy halls of Home One, trying to avoid eye contact with the passing soldiers and staff. As they reached the hangar, a young Alliance soldier stepped in front of him holding up his hand.

"Do you have the authorization code to go in?" he asked pleasantly.

"I beg your pardon?" Luke responded.

"High command instituted an authorization requirement for accessing the hangar." He gave them a sheepish grin. "Too many pilots sneaking their ships out to go party planetside."

"Well, I can assure you that isn't what we're doing," Luke said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. The youth was just trying to enforce a reasonable rule. "We don't have authorization but we need to get our ship."

"I'm sorry." The boy gave them an uncomfortable smile. "Maybe you can contact High Command…"

Luke took a deep breath and looked into the boy's eyes. "You will let us through."

Lando and Chewbacca stared, making Luke suddenly feel self-conscious. Ben had been able to hypnotize people with the Force with panache: he just felt a bit idiotic. But self-doubt wouldn't help them now.

"You will open the door," he said firmly. Please let this work, he added silently.

As though moving through water, the boy turned, inputting his access code and stepping out of the way as the door slid open. Luke could see a security cam watching them, and felt relieved that High Command would see that he'd forced his way in against the boy's will. No reason for the young man to get in trouble. Unwilling to waste time, he made a beeline for the Falcon, his companions in close pursuit.

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"We can't go in there looking like this!" Leia protested as they rounded a corner and found themselves standing in front of an admittedly seedy looking nightclub.

"This isn't a joint that caters to royalty," Han told her under his breath. "I wouldn't worry about a dress code."

"You really think we'll get past the bouncers?" she asked skeptically, looking at the two enormous specimens guarding the door. "I know you like dives, but I'm guessing even a bar in the underground has standards."

"Well," he said, pulling her towards a darkened alcove, "We could, uh….lose a few layers."

"What?" Leia's voice was dangerously flat. "Care to explain what you mean by that, flyboy?"

He responded by stripping off his jacket and outer shirt, using the latter to scrub some of the muck out of his hair. "See. Better, right?" He was left in a tight, sleeveless tank, and were they not tired, starving, injured, dirty, and in mortal danger, Leia would have liked some extra time to enjoy the view. At the moment, though, she wasn't in the mood.

"I am not taking my clothes off." Leia looked down at the ground and kicked a crumpled piece of plastic packaging into a nearby wall. Stripping down to her clean layers would leave her in knickers and a low cut tank. "Absolutely not."

"There's no need to be uptight about it," he said, starting to get annoyed. Modesty was one thing, but since when was she not willing to make a small sacrifice to further their cause.

Leia continued to avoid his gaze, knowing his annoyance was born out of ignorance and not a lack of compassion. She'd been so careful to keep him from finding out what Jabba had done to her, even going as far as to threaten to shave Chewbacca's fur off in the night if he breathed a word to Han. By the time his eyesight had returned, she was back in her Alliance issued jumpsuit, the bruises on her neck covered up with concealer that she'd stashed away in the Falcon's 'fresher, the slave garb tossed out the hatch to wither away in the relentless wind and sun of Tatooine. But in spite of her satisfying revenge against Jabba, she couldn't relive that kind of humiliation so soon. Gazing downward, she just shook her head.

"Please don't ask me to do that," she said. "I can't."

Han gave her a long look, sensing there was something other than princess-ly reserve behind her reticence. He'd had a sneaking suspicion that her stay at Jabba's hadn't been as drama free as she had implied when he asked, and wondered—not for the first time—whether this was related to ill-treatment by the Hutt. But there was little to be done about that now, and he leaned back to think of another plan.

"You go in," Leia said finally. "I'll wait here."

"Alone?" Han scoffed. "Over my dead body."

"I'll hide," she insisted. "Go in and find your contact. The sooner we're out of her, the safer we'll both be."

"Nope." His foot was down. "We'll find another way. Let's just go try—maybe I'll be able to charm them enough that they won't notice you."

Sighing, Leia followed. She doubted she could slip in under the radar—even a human could probably smell her from fifty meters away. But Han had enough confidence for the both of them. Maybe it would work.

Her magical thinking was interrupted a few seconds later when the giant bouncer stepped in front of the door to keep them from passing. He looked disgustedly at Leia.

"You here for the cleaning staff job?" he said in an impossibly deep voice. "Round back. You don't come in with the patrons."

"Uh, yeah." Han couldn't believe their luck. "Mind pointing the way?"

Rolling his eyes, the bouncer gestured towards a metal door inserted into the heavily graffitied wall about twenty meters down yet another dark alley. "Knock on the door and tell Buff you're here. Can't believe he finally got someone to answer that ad."

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Leia whispered as they made their way down the alley and rapped on the door. "We need a contact, not a job."

"It gets us in, doesn't it?" Han hissed back. "We'll worry about the rest later."

The door swung open, and a deeply scarred humanoid from a species neither of them recognized stared out into the murk. Presumably he was the aforementioned Buff.

"You want the cleaning job? Six credits an hour, no overtime."

"Six credits? That's not even close to minimum wage," Leia started to protest before Han silenced her with a hand over her mouth.

"Sounds good," he said cheerfully. Gesturing for Leia to precede him inside, he added, "After you, milady."


	9. Chapter 9

Luke refused to feel guilty about leaving the Alliance behind as they made the jump to hyperspace. He'd gotten a comm from Wedge Antilles just as they were headed out of the system, asking whether he could fly with the Rogues to deal with an unexpected distress call from a nearby Imperial controlled system. After demurring repeatedly and having his lame excuses rebuffed, he finally told Wedge about the purpose of their mission. Thankfully that had gotten the pilot off his back.

"So you just strolled up to General Rieekan and asked nicely?" Luke asked Lando. "That's bold."

"He likes Han," the other man said, "Told me that he thought it wasn't right that Mon Mothma was thinking about demoting him from general. Plus he's scared to death for Leia, though I don't know how he manages to keep his head on straight tracking that woman. It'd be enough to turn your hair white."

"Why would she strip his commission?" Chewbacca mused.

Lando translated for Luke, then told them, "She thinks he shouldn't have abandoned his troops to look for you. I guess there's lots of gossip going around about him and the princess. During the debrief, Derlin said Han insisted that Leia go with him to search, and Mon came to her own conclusions from there."

"That's ridiculous!" Luke said, his voice going up a pitch. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I know Han and Leia and neither of them would have put the mission at risk."

"Tell that to Mon Mothma," Lando responded grimly. "Rieekan thinks part of the reason she wouldn't authorize a rescue is because she's convinced they're holed up in a tree down on Endor making out."

Chewbacca spat out a curse, which Lando declined to translate. "Don't be too hard on her. She's got a lot to deal with right now. I can understand why rescuing two people who might already be dead isn't at the top of her list."

"They aren't dead," interjected Luke, "And I wish you'd quit saying that."

"Sorry." Lando slumped down into one of the passenger seats in the cockpit. They were all silent for a moment.

"I wish they could have been there when the thing blew," Luke said finally. "It would have meant a lot to both of them."

"Now who's being a downer?" Lando replied. "You said it: let's stay positive. For all we know they're halfway through a plot to take down the rest of the Imperial government right now."

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Leia couldn't help but grimace as Buff led them both into a supply closet, the walls damp with condensation. A rank smell wafted from down the hall where she could hear the distinctive noises of a 'fresher unit being used for both traditional and nontraditional purposes.

"Cleaning supplies are here," Buff said, pointing out the obvious mops, sponges, rags, and bottles of various chemicals. "Last call is in half an hour, then you've got eight hours 'til we reopen." Raucous laughter, followed by the sound of punches being thrown, echoed down the dark corridor, and Han instinctively stepped closer to Leia. "And that six credits an hour is for both of you. You want to partner up, that's your business. You'll get when we open up tomorrow, if you've done a good job." With that, he stepped out of the closet and shut the door behind him, leaving Han and Leia in darkness.

Immediately Han fumbled around, finding a string that illuminated a dim lightbulb on the ceiling.

"What are we doing here?" Leia whispered.

"We're off the street for the moment, aren't we?" he said, looking carefully at the cleaning supplies. "We'll find someone who can get us pointed towards my contact and then we'll be on our way. C'mon." He reached over to open the door, and found that Buff had locked them in. "What the hell?"

Leia stood watching him, hands on her hips and her head cocked in that particular way that demonstrated to him that she wasn't impressed. "Guess they don't want us mingling with the patrons," she smirked.

"Hang on." Looking around, he grabbed a small screwdriver and began jimmying the lock.

"Stop!" Leia pulled the tool from his hand. "We're just going to get kicked out if you do that."

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" he asked icily.

"Wait. Earn our money and regroup once we can think more clearly," she said, "We're both exhausted and starving, and probably have concussions. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise."

As she spoke, they could hear the sound of someone vomiting violently directly outside their temporary abode.

"All right, Princess," Han agreed, noting that he was hankering for a large sandwich, a nap, and a shower—in that order. "What do you suggest we do while we wait for our shift to start?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"I have an idea," he told her, winking. "On Corellia there's this game called Seven Minutes in Heaven…."

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Buff unlocked the door and muttered his goodnights, leaving Han and Leia to stare at the empty, half-lit nightclub in dismay. The floors were sticky with the residue of spilled drinks and occasional puddles of various bodily fluids. Tables were littered with dirty dishes and glasses with the stubs of cigarras drowning in the melting ice. The grill behind the bar was crusted with the burnt remnants of melted cheese. And that was just the main room.

"So, where do we start?" Leia asked, clinging to the mop she had brought out like a weapon.

"Here." Han hopped nimbly over the bar and pulled out some clean glasses. There was a sink to the side, piled high with dirty dishes. He swept a few of them out of the way and then filled two glasses with water. "Drink. You're dehydrated."

Taking it gratefully, Leia poured the water down her throat in a series of loud gulps, then handed the glass back to Han for a refill. He emptied his own then gave her another serving. "Not too fast," he warned. "You don't want to make yourself sick."

As she sipped the next glass more slowly, Han rummaged around in the cupboards, finally emerging triumphantly a few minutes later with a large jar containing a mix of nuts and small crackers, and a smaller jar stuffed with briny preserved vegetables. "Better than nothing, right?"

"Aren't they going to notice if we eat this stuff?" Leia asked as she strained to open the cocktail mix.

Taking it from her and twisting off the lid, Han said reassuringly, "Nah. This doesn't look like the kind of joint that keeps inventory on their snacks. There are probably ten jars of this stuff down there."

Grinning like idiots, they both crammed their hands in, shoving in mouthful after mouthful of the slightly stale mix, punctuating with bites of the sour pickled vegetables.

"I guess I was hungry," Leia admitted as she chewed. "I'm feeling better already."

"Me too." Han closed the jar and slid it back under the cupboard. "I guess we better to get to work though. Why don't we do a quick assessment of what we're dealing with and then we can regroup?"

"Yes, General." Leia saluted and then ducked as Han reached out to playfully yank her ear. "But you're taking the 'freshers."

"Of course, your highnessness," he said, strolling off towards the back hall while holding his nose ostentatiously. Leia started with the dining area, piling dishes in the middle of each table and noting the varying degrees of mess on the floor. A number of booths had items that the patrons had forgotten at the end of the evening, presumably too inebriated to worry about a lost scarf, hat, or, as Leia noticed with confusion, a dress and pair of shoes. She bundled up the items and set them on a relatively clean bench, wondering if the nightclub bothered with a lost and found, when she noticed something heavy in the pocket of one of the jackets. Reaching in, she smiled as her fingers closed around a comfortingly familiar shape.

"Guess what I found!" Han burst in with a wide smile on his face.

"Is it better than what I found?" With a flourish, Leia showed him the small blaster.

"Where did you find that?" he asked, his own discovery momentarily forgotten. He took it from her and checked the charge before starting to stuff it in his waistband.

"Hey!" Leia protested. "I'm the one who found it!"

"Oh, fine," he said, handing it back to her. "But I've got dibs on the next one."

"What did you find?" she reminded him, thinking he was mighty optimistic to assume they would find another weapon.

"C'mon, I'll show you." He took her hand, leading her through the back hall and over to a half hidden door with a clearly marked "STAFF ONLY" sign glaring out at all passersby.

"Are you sure we should…" Leia started to ask, but Han barged through.

"We're staff, aren't we?" he said. "Besides, look!"

The level of cleanliness had increased dramatically the moment they stepped through the door and up a small flight of stairs. Emerging into what appeared to be an employee lounge, they found a pair of small couches, a holoproj unit, and an ancient coffee machine humming in the corner.

"Nice," Leia said, confused as to why the little room had inspired so much excitement in Han.

"No, this is what I wanted to show you." He opened another door and grandly gestured her in.

"Oh my goddess," Leia said with a smile. "I can't believe it."

A neatly arranged shelving unit sat to the right, framing an autovalet. Further down a pair of sonic showers were built into the wall with a small sink and medicine cabinet immediately opposite. Han walked over to the medicine cabinet, proudly pulling out a first aid that he'd discovered.

Without another word, Han began stripping his clothes off, tossing them into the autovalet with the flair of a smashballer. He'd gotten down to his boxer shorts when Leia turned away, blushing bright red.

"What's wrong?" Han asked, knowing full well that Leia was feeling embarrassed to death. He was enjoying every minute of it.

"Maybe we should take turns," she stammered, avoiding looking at him as she headed back for the lounge.

"Princess, we don't have time to take turns and get all the cleaning done," he called after her. "I promise I'll behave myself." She poked her head back in as he added, "If you will too."

"Okay," she said softly, reentering the room. "But can you at least not watch?"

Fighting every instinct he had to make a suggestive remark, Han nodded in agreement. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and stepped down towards the shower.

"I've just never taken off my clothes…willingly…in front of a man before," she said by way of explanation as he started his shower. She threw her own filthy garments into the autovalet and started the cycle.

"What do you mean willingly?" he wondered, keeping his eyes closed as he heard her making her way into the adjoining shower stall. The sonic waves knocked the dirt from his body in chunks, and he reached up to ruffle his hair, wrinkling his nose as he saw wiry grey furs fall to the floor. Leia didn't respond to his question, but simply pulled the curtain closed and started up her own shower. "Leia? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she responded tightly. "Just checking out the damage from the last few days."

"Yeah, I'm real pretty looking too," he said. "Hopefully there's something good in that first aid kit."

"Hopefully."

He finished his shower in silence, taking time to enjoy the feeling of being clean for the first time in more than a week. As he turned off the unit, he realized there were unlikely to be towels, as sonic showers didn't get you wet in the first place.

"I'll go find something for you to put on while we wait for our clothes to be finished," he called to Leia.

"Thanks," she called back over the gentle hum of her shower. "Sorry about freaking out before."

"S'okay. Be right back."

He came up with nothing digging through the cupboards, then remembered that one of the couches out in the lounge had a knit blanket draped artfully over the stained upholstery. Better than nothing, he mused, as he carried it back in to her.

Leia finished her shower and then wrapped the blanket around her body. She found thankfully that it hung nearly to her knees.

Stepping out, she swiftly covered her eyes as she noticed Han was still clad in only his birthday suit.

"I don't look that bad, do I?" he said teasingly.

"Will you just cover yourself up?" Leia pleaded. "What if someone comes in?"

"No one is going to be here for hours," he told her confidently. "But if it'll make you feel better…" With a dramatic sigh, he unsnapped one of the shower curtains and tied it around his shoulder like a toga. She opened her eyes gingerly, and then giggled.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, then walked over to the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. "Now let me take a look at that eye."

"You first, your worship," Han said, pointing to the fading lump on her forehead. "And lemme get a look at your back. You look pretty banged up."

Carefully arranging the blanket, Leia let Han expose her back and ribs. He gently probed, looking at her with concern as she reacted with a yelp.

"Your ribs might be broken," he said solemnly. "How did that happen?"

"I accidentally pissed off a Wookiee," she explained. "Back at the shuttle hangar. Tossed me into a wall." He gently poked again, and she gritted her teeth. "It's not bad. I think they're just bruised."

"What happened here?" he asked, moving away from her tender ribs to stroke a purpling stripe of bruising above her collarbone. "It looks old. Did the Imps do that to you?"

"I don't know," Leia said, pulling away. "It doesn't hurt though. Seriously, let me look at your eye. It's still swollen." She popped open the first aid kit, hunting for bacta ointment or any kind of salve that would ease his black eye. "Can you believe they hired us?" she added conversationally. "They didn't even ask our names."

"They didn't want to know," Han said. "This sort of job tends to attract less than savory types. Gives the employer plausible deniability if they take in a wanted criminal."

"How apropos," Leia said wryly, as she finally found a jar of ointment and began gently smearing it over the darkened skin ringing Han's eye.

"Suits me fine anyways," Han continued. "I could never remember all the damn aliases that the Alliance assigned me." He took the jar from her, stepping in front of the mirror. "Let me do that. You don't need to be so delicate. I'm a big boy." He finished spreading the greasy substance and then dabbed some on Leia's forehead.

She looked up at him as he worked, and he leaned down to kiss her injury. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled into his shoulder. "Whatever happens," she whispered, "I'm glad we're in this together."

"Me too," he replied, carefully putting his hands on her hips to avoid her bruised torso. "We make a pretty good pair, don't we?"

Leia didn't speak, but simply nodded with a smile, enjoying their quiet moment together. She refused to be scandalized by the fact that they were dressed in only a blanket and a shower curtain, tucked away in a corner of a shady nightclub in the shadiest region of Coruscant. After all she had been through to get Han back, she was determined to make the most of every moment.

The autovalet buzzed, and Han gave Leia final quick kiss on the tip of her nose before trotting over to fetch their clothes. He gallantly stepped out to allow Leia some privacy while dressing, taking his own garb out into the lounge.

"Now," he said, as she emerged in trousers and a shirt, her poncho tucked under her arm. "To work! I'll do the 'freshers if you tackle the dishes, then we can both scrub the tables and floor in the dining room."

"Are you sure?" Leia asked gratefully. "Those 'freshers are pretty gross."

"I survived hanging in Jabba's throne room for months, I'll survive this," he said nonchalantly. "Now scoot. We're wasting time."

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Leia wiped the final plate, setting it down on the last empty space on the sea of towels she'd spread across the bar. The place did have an automatic dishwasher, but there was no way she would get through the sea of dirty tableware without doing a few loads by hand. After she'd scrubbed the first few glasses, she got into a rhythm and was pleasantly surprised to find that the task wasn't as difficult as she had imagined.

Han strutted in a minute later, hauling a bucket full of foul smelling water. "Gonna go dump this in the utility sink," he said. "Care to do an inspection, make sure my work is up to snuff?"

"Okay," agreed Leia, following him back. As Han disappeared into the utility closet, Leia peeked into the first 'fresher room with trepidation. Gone were the rotten odors of waste and vomit, replaced by a sickeningly sweet citrusy aroma that barely masked the underlying chemicals. But in spite of the distasteful smell of the antiseptics, the room was shockingly clean. The floors sparkled, the mirrors shone. Even the toilets were gleaming white. Amazed, she looked into the other room, noting that he'd tackled that task with the same vigor.

"Where did you learn to clean?" Leia asked as she rejoined him in the main dining room. "That's incredible."

"I've had some odd jobs in my day," he said with a shrug, "You pick up skills."

"You'd never know you'd picked up that skill by looking at the Falcon," Leia added. "How come you never clean your ship?"

"I clean my ship!" he said indignantly. "It just doesn't get that dirty."

"Right." Leia rolled her eyes. "Shall we start on the dining room then?"

"Hang on just a sec." Han had spotted something behind the bar. Walking around this time to avoid disturbing Leia's carefully constructed tower of clean dishes, he pressed a button and then whistled victoriously as a holoproj unit lowered from the ceiling. "What's the frequency for the local news?" he asked Leia. "Maybe we can find out what's goin' on."

"Try one-point-one," she suggested. "That's the official government channel."

Han turned on the unit and tuned it as she recommended. The static quickly resolved itself into the official Imperial seal, with the sound of Imperial anthem blaring in the background.

"That's odd," Leia said. "Usually they have something on all the time. Try forty seven point three. That's one of the unofficial stations."

Han retuned the unit, but there was nothing but static. "How about fifty five point six?" Leia said.

That station resolved into a picture of an empty newsroom. They watched for a moment, but no one appeared. "One hundred and nine point three? That's just a music channel, but maybe they've got some information?"

Han changed the channel again. Immediately a high pitched wailing sound filled the speakers. He cringed, wondering what had happened to the staff at this station, when the pitch of the sound dropped. It wasn't, as Han originally suspected, a feline being brutally murdered, but rather was the opening notes of a song by a notorious—in his opinion—Chandrilan boy band. He was further horrified to see that Leia had begun singing along as she started wiping down tables.

"Don't tell me you like these guys," he said skeptically as he started stacking chairs in preparation for mopping. "I thought you had better taste than that."

"I wouldn't say I liked them," Leia told him, continuing to sway in time to the music. "They were popular when I was in school. It's…nostalgic, I guess."

"I read somewhere that these guys are actually droids," Han said with a smirk.

"I'd believe that," Leia shrugged, before launching into the chorus full volume. She winked as Han broke down laughing.

"I love you," he told her warmly. Twirling in time with the music, Leia danced over to him.

"I know."


	10. Chapter 10

"Wow."

The sudden noise startled Han and Leia awake. She nearly pulled her newly acquired blaster before remembering where she was and that the source of the exclamation was ostensibly their boss.

"I'm impressed," continued Buff, as he tossed a well-worn shoulder bag behind the bar and began flicking on lights. "But next time, no sleeping on the job. We're not paying you to nap."

Han put a hand on Leia's shoulder to keep her from snapping back with a rude retort as he stood up, stretching out the kinks in his neck that were a reward for falling asleep awkwardly propped up in one of the dining booths. "You got our money?"

Buff opened the cash register and carefully counted out credit coins. "You comin' back tonight, I hope? This place hasn't looked so good in years. We might have to start charging a cover." Handing them to Han, he added, "I might even be able to convince the big man to give you a raise."

"Yeah, we'll be back," Han said slowly. "In fact, we noticed you have a nice little lounge up there. You mind if we crash for a couple hours? We'll stay out of the way."

Buff gave him a quizzical look. "You don't have a place to stay?"

Taking a risk, Han ventured, "We took off from the surface levels pretty quick when everything started going down, then got mugged right away. So no, we've got nothing." He shot Leia a warning look to keep quiet.

"Yeah, what a mess," Buff responded sympathetically. "Thankfully we ain't had disturbances down here, 'least not any more than normal." He laughed, then coughed and spat into the small bar sink. "Go ahead for today. But don't think it's permanent."

Han had been hoping that Buff might comment on the political situation that led to the violent riots on the surface, but simply securing them a place to stay for a little while was good enough. Especially since they were unlikely to run into Imperial adversaries…or so he hoped.

"Thank you," Leia said politely, remaining seated as she tucked the blaster surreptitiously into her waistband. She followed Han back through the hall and up to the little lounge, trying to keep from yawning. They'd been sleeping for less than an hour when Buff arrived.

She stretched out on one of the sofas, kicking off her boots and pulling the blanket, still slightly damp, over her body. "How long are you planning to have us stay here?" she asked sleepily.

Han tried lying down on the other couch, but found it hard to locate a comfortable spot. His feet dangled off the end, and if he brought his knees up he felt like he'd slip off the moment he drifted off. "I'm hoping we can figure out a way to get in while they're open today. If I can find someone who knows where Hipha is…"

"That's the ex-girl?" Leia inquired, a cheeky look in her half-mast eyes.

"We can see if she'll help us find a way to get in touch with the fleet or at least get a ticket off this miserable excuse for a planet."

"Fair enough." Leia curled her arms under her head, arranging herself carefully so as to avoid putting weight on the still-tender bruise on her forehead. "Goodnight, Han."

"It's actually late morning," he told her softly, but Leia had already fallen back asleep. Quietly, he knelt beside her. It was rare to see her rest so peacefully, but she was beyond exhausted. He stroked her hair before gently kissing her and creeping out of the room.

He hated to leave her in the still unfamiliar room, but she was armed and Buff didn't seem interested in bothering either of them. The man looked up as Han walked back into the bar.

"Thought you were sleeping," he remarked as Han headed for the door.

"My, uh…." They hadn't given Buff a description of their relationship, not that he'd asked. Han decided to play it safe…"Wife is sleeping. I just need to run out for a few minutes."

"Knock on the door three times when you want back in," Buff grumbled. "I don't unlock it until we open. Too much riff raff out there."

"Will do." Han stepped out the door and pulled it closed tightly behind him.

The morning air in the lower levels was entirely indistinguishable from the evening air, but for the increased foot traffic through the dank passageways. Han kept his hand on top of the credit coins in his pocket, knowing from experience how easy it was to lift them from even the most discerning marks. A pair of Chadra-Fans waddled by, bumping into him suspiciously, but he pushed them off with a knee and kept moving. He had errands to run.

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In a rare first for Luke, the Millennium Falcon was warmly welcomed into the Belnar City spaceport after sending an accurate identification code to the spaceport authorities.

"Guess our reputation precedes us," Lando commented as he and Chewbacca guided the ship downwards into their designated docking bay among the sleek line of buildings circling the perimeter of a glass and metal adorned port headquarters. "You been to Belnar before?"

Luke shook his head. "I've heard a lot about it though. Leia's had a few trips here and really likes it."

"They're good people," Lando agreed. "Not many offworlders here, but they're friendly. We should be able to get a ship and some good intelligence here without much trouble."

"I hope so," Chewbacca snapped. The Wookiee had been quiet for most of the journey, taking Artoo into the guts of the ship and having the droid help him fiddle with wires and connectors. Both men knew he was upset about Han's disappearance, but only Lando—who had a broader understanding of Wookiee culture—comprehended the depths of his guilt over his failure to protect his companion. Chewbacca had been dealt a lot of blows lately, including at Lando's albeit reluctant hand, and finding Han and Leia alive and well was the only cure. In the meantime, Chewie treated the Falcon as the closest surrogate, focusing on keeping her healthy until her pilot's return.

"Who's your friend here?" Luke asked as they reached the ground.

"Guy named Arthar Esenta," Lando began. "He moved here about ten standard years ago—has a repair shop here in Belnar City."

"I beg your pardon, Master Lando," Threepio broke in, "But would that be the same Arthar Esenta wanted by the Empire for sixteen counts of ship theft?"

"Probably," Lando admitted. "He has to get his parts from somewhere. I don't think he's ever stolen a ship from someone who didn't deserve it though."

"Can we trust him?" Luke asked, double checking that his lightsaber was hidden beneath his loose tunic.

"I'd trust him as much as I trust myself," Lando responded in a confident voice. Chewbacca snorted.

"I guess it's the best we've got right now," Luke sighed. "Let's get going. I don't want to waste any more time."

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Arthar Esenta was a tall, distinguished looking human with an aquiline profile and a well-coiffed head of thick silver hair. Older than Luke was expecting, he greeted Lando warmly as the three of them stepped into the surprisingly clean and elegant ship repair shop.

"Well, this certainly is pleasant," Threepio commented to no one in particular as he followed them in. Artoo spun around, taking a moment to admire a model of a single passenger ship's engine that was beautifully displayed with interpretive signs about its parts and functions. Being more accustomed to dealing with dingy, pieced-together snub fighter components, Artoo appreciated the logical attention to detail.

"Lando, it's been ages," Arthar gushed, his voice raised slightly in an imitation of the native Khil's melodious tones, clearly developed over his decade on Belnar. "What have you been up to, my dear boy?"

"Been serving with the Alliance to Restore the Republic," Lando responded proudly. Chewbacca rolled his eyes slightly—one real battle in and suddenly Lando thought he was General Dodonna.

"Lando! I'm so proud of you!" Arthar gave him a hearty handshake. "And I thought you were destined to become a King of Commerce."

"Well, my business did have some setbacks," Lando admitted, but Arthar wasn't listening. He ushered them all into a beautifully decorated back room, pressing cool glasses of local fruit juice into their hands as he gestured for them to sit.

"Tell me what brings you to our lovely city," Arthar asked. "And oh! How rude of me! Please introduce me to your companions."

"This is Luke Skywalker," Lando began, and Luke stood to shake hands. Arthar gaped.

"It is truly an honor," he said, taking Luke's hand in his own. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Thanks," Luke said, ducking down as the shy farm boy in him reared his head.

"And this is Chewbacca," Lando continued. Chewie nodded tersely, and Arthar opted to tone down his ebullience for the moment. "We're here to ask you a favor."

"For a hero of the Rebellion? Anything!" Arthar stood, walking around behind a large desk carved from some exotic wood. "What can I do for you?"

"We need a ship, and I also was wondering if you would be able to track down information on a Star Destroyer for us," Lando told him. "Our most recent information is that the ISD Chimaera was at the Kuati Shipyards for repair."

"There are several Star Destroyers there," Arthar confirmed. "I haven't been collecting information on which ones are still in orbit—and at least one is in dry dock—but I can find out. What sort of ship do you need?"

"Something that can get us past Imperial lines," Luke spoke up. "The one we have is too well known."

Arthar was silent for a moment. "Let me see what I can do," he said finally, "Can you come back in two hours?"

Lando nodded, reaching forward to shake Arthar's hand again. "Thank you. This means a lot." Luke nodded in agreement, and the small group got up and walked back out into the bright Belnar sunshine.

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"Where the slatta have you been?" Leia yelled as Han popped back into the small lounge that was serving as their temporary living space.

"Picking up a coupla things," he responded. "And since when do you cuss in Huttese?"

"You could have warned me you were leaving," she said, paying no mind to his question. "I woke up and had to ask Buff. And by the way, since when are we married?"

"Since today," he said with a grin. "And look-I bought you some wedding presents."

He handed her a bag. Giving him a doubtful look, she peeked inside, pulling out a few small packages and a large piece of printed flimsiplast. Confused, she flipped over the packages first, and then laughed when she realized what they contained.

"Toothbrushes! This is the best fake wedding present I've ever gotten."

"And," Han prompted. "Did you look at what else?"

Leia looked closer at the flimsi. "The Underworlder Daily?"

"It's a newspaper," Han explained. "An underground publication. They only sell it down here. Did you see the first story?"

She read the headline aloud. "Ruling Council declares indefinite martial law." Looking down to the main story, she continued, "The Imperial Ruling Council today declared that Imperial Center will remain under a state of martial law until further notice. The move comes a day after the deaths of Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader were confirmed by Sate Pestage, the late emperor's chief advisor…." She took a deep breath. "Wow. So it's….wow. They're dead. Palpatine and Vader." She sank back onto the couch, trembling slightly.

"Are you all right?" Han asked, sitting beside her. "I mean…it's good news, right?"

"Of course it's good news!" she said sharply. "It's just that seeing it there in black and white….it seems so real. I just can't believe they're really gone forever."

They'd both assumed, based on the raging protests that had engulfed the Palace district on their arrival, that the Emperor was gone. Not that it wasn't reassuring to see a confirmation of Palpatine's demise, but it also wasn't a surprise. However, neither of them had known that Vader was on the Death Star as well. Where the Emperor had been an abstract enemy, reaching them only via his control over his minions and troops, Vader was a physical presence in their lives, his name sparking a more visceral fear.

Even before their desperate flight from Hoth, Han was intimately aware of Vader's effect on Leia. The unflappable princess, who would run into a volley of blaster fire to save a wounded Rebel, was reduced to a weeping, shuddering mess when she awoke from one of her all-too-common nightmares about being back in the Dark Lord's clutches. The moment that they were ambushed on Bespin was one of the lowest points in his life—not because he'd been betrayed by a friend, or because of what happened to him subsequently, but because he felt personally responsible for sending Leia right back into Vader's grasp.

And now he was dead.

The relief was so great when Han first read the news that he was nearly ill. A million threats still lurked in the galaxy, and any of them could be killed at any moment, but at least Vader was gone.

He turned to see tears pooling in Leia's eyes, and pulled her close. She sank into his embrace, ignoring the sharp pains in her battered ribs.

"He's dead," she whispered. "He's dead."

A moment later, she wiped her eyes and went on reading. Beneath the story about the council's actions was a rundown of Imperial atrocities across the galaxy.

"I can't believe this is all still happening," Leia said finally. "I thought once we got Palpatine, we'd be done. Victorious."

Han sighed. "The cleanup is going to take a long time. Even longer than scrubbing this dump down." Leia gave him a weak smile. "I imagine High Command is going to have a rough time figuring out who to go after next."

"Surely they'll come here to Coruscant…" Leia said…"Eventually."

"Planet's still pretty damn well armed," Han pointed out. "I assume we lost some ships at Endor: it's going to take a while to build up the troop strength to make a pass at Coruscant. That article seems to suggest that the military command structure here is pretty well intact."

Leia thought for a moment. "Unless someone takes out the Ruling Council."

Han gave her a skeptical look. "You aren't seriously suggesting…."

"Think about it! We're already on planet. That's usually the hardest step, right?"

"What exactly do you propose? Waltzing in with that lost-and-found blaster and opening fire?"

"No." Leia was annoyed that he wasn't taking her idea seriously. "We aren't going to do anything hasty. But there has to be a way to get into the Imperial Palace…."

A sharp knock on the door silenced her.

"Yes?" Han called. Buff's face peeked around the door.

"You all interested in making a few more creds? My bartender and my waitress didn't show up. Guess there have been some more lockdowns. They live up in the midlevels." He shook his head. "Glad we don't deal with that crap down here."

"Uh, sure," Han responded, glancing at Leia. She shrugged, nodding in assent. "Just show us what we need to do."


	11. Chapter 11

"That wasn't so bad," Leia said, pulling off her new shoes and rubbing her tired feet. "I think I made close to two hundred credits after I pay back the advance Buff gave us. Think that's enough to get us off this rock?"

Han pulled off the long black apron he'd been wearing and threw it in a heap towards the autovalet. "Maybe one of us, commercial. But I can't imagine either of us trying to waltz onto a flight looking like the galaxy's most wanted would end well."

"I think technically Luke is still the galaxy's most wanted," Leia corrected him with a sly smile. "You and I rank somewhere after Mon Mothma."

"Okay, just tell that to the spaceport security guards. I'm sure they'll appreciate the distinction."

Leia chuckled, feeling surprisingly lighthearted for someone still trapped deep in enemy territory. After a long argument earlier about who should wait tables and who should tend bar—which Leia ultimately resolved by reminding Han that she had once made him and Luke violently ill after botching the recipe for a Tatooine Sunrise—they had taken an advance on their pay and found a shop selling castoff and irregular clothing. There was enough to get Leia a new shirt, slacks, and shoes and—at her insistence—Han bought himself some pants as well to replace his combat fatigues. With their bruises fading rapidly and their new outfits, the couple almost looked like normal refugees from the upper levels.

That evening as Leia took orders and Han keep the conversations and drinks flowing at the bar, Leia noticed that there seemed to be a growing number of patrons who were in fact refugees from the surface levels. The early crowd was all regulars, some of whom turned tail and left while lobbing angry curses at the bouncer when they saw the newly tidy space. As word of the place's transformation spread, the clientele became quieter and less heavily armed. At one point even a family with a young boy came in, settling in a back booth and telling Leia about their desperate flee from the violence on the surface as she brought them their nerf steaks and pasta.

In the late evening hours, Buff cranked up the music and the crowd at the bar grew three deep. Leia slipped back to help Han, taking drink orders while he mixed up an array of intoxicants at lightning speed. Last call was at 0200, and as the final patrons slipped out, Han and Leia retreated back up to their temporary quarters in the lounge.

"How about you?" Leia asked. "You must have gotten some good tips too."

"Nothin' left," Han told her, more casually than Leia thought was strictly appropriate.

"What do you mean 'nothing left'? How could you have spent your money already?" Hands on hips and lips pursed, she asked, "Were you gambling?"

"Gimme a little credit, princess." Han stretched, flopping down on one of the sofas. "Remember why we came in here initially? So I could find Hipha and see if she could help us out?"

"Right. Your ex."

"I had to bribe a guy for information," Han responded tightly, annoyed that Leia was still obsessing over this long lost woman.

"And?"

"She's dead."

Leia blinked a few times, feeling guilty as Han hoped she would. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

"Got caught up in the mess on the surface. Imps fired into the crowd and she was in the wrong spot at the wrong time, apparently."

"We have to stop this. Too many innocent people are getting caught up in it."

Han put an arm around her shoulder. "Sweetheart, you're not being realistic. What exactly do you think we can do from here?"

"If we could get into the Imperial palace…." Leia began.

"Nope." Han was firm. "Absolutely not. No way."

"Come on, general," Leia said with a smile, "You've gotten in and out of tighter spots. Remember the Death Star?"

"All too well," he grumbled. "Leia, we are not going to go on some crazy quest to take out the Ruling Council. We need to just find a way to get back to the fleet. I'm sure they're already hatching a plan to take Coruscant."

"I don't think so," Leia told him. "I only was in on a few meetings after we got back from Tatooine, but the bulk of High Command was leaning towards proceeding more incrementally. Coruscant isn't even on their radar right now."

"Then there's a good reason for that."

"Han! Since when have you been so supportive of High Command's strategic decisions?" Leia demanded.

"Since their decisions started aligning with my own interest in keeping us the hell out of the Imperial Palace!" Han snapped back. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled her in close to him and continued more softly, "We got a lucky break getting away from the Imps. I don't want to get right back into a situation where you might get hurt."

Leia rested her head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Part of her agreed with him. After living for so many months wondering whether she'd ever see him alive again, she saw the appeal of a safe life far from the constant threats of death. But she also knew that every sacrifice she'd made in her life would come to nothing if the Empire was simply able to rebuild right away under a new despot. She owed it to her fallen Rebel comrades, her family, her planet, and herself to keep fighting until the end.

But right now wasn't the time for that fight. "We still have to clean," she said with a sigh. "Want to do it in shifts so we can get some sleep?"

Extracting himself from under her, Han agreed. "Good call. I'll go first."

"Make sure you come wake me up in four hours," Leia told him. "Don't be a hero."

Han winked at her. "Never."

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Sleep came surprisingly quickly again. Leia curled on the sofa, cozy under a blanket in the pitch dark room. Too exhausted to dream, she sat up in confusion as some small noise in the room startled her from sleep. The chrono in the room was behind her, and she squinted at it. She'd only been asleep for an hour—what had woken her up?

"Leia." An unfamiliar voice called out to her from across the room. She fumbled for her blaster before remembering that she'd given it to Han while she took her sleep shift. Opening her mouth to call out, she frantically looked around the room for the source of the voice.

Before she could scream for Han, a soft blue light resolved itself into the shape of a man dressed in the same old fashioned Jedi robes she had seen on Obi Wan Kenobi so many years before. She kept silent, assuming she must still be dreaming. The apparition smiled gently at her.

"Leia," he repeated. "I'm so glad to see you safe."

"Who are you?" she whispered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. She had never seen this man before in her life, she was certain of it. She wasn't scared, of course—partly because he seemed kind, and partly because she'd never heard of a person comprised of wavering blue light harming anyone. But he made her slightly uneasy.

"Leia, I'm your father. Your real…" He stopped himself. "Your birth father."

"Are you a Jedi?" she asked, growing more confused by the minute. Surely she was still asleep, and yet…it seemed so real.

"I was a Jedi, yes," the man told her.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Anakin Skywalker."

Her birth parents were dead, and unknown, Bail and Breha Organa had told her when she finally grew old enough to wonder. Born at a hospital in Crevasse City to a woman who died before she could be identified, they were never even able to tell Leia which planet she could claim as her heritage. But no matter—she would be a child of Alderaan, loved and cherished no differently than a biological child. But still, she had wondered.

Now a long remembered dream came back to her like a slap to the face. She was no more than six or seven, and woke one morning babbling to her parents about a sea of sand and a young boy that had chatted with her as they sat on a cliff watching two suns setting. They had smiled indulgently and encouraged her to finish her breakfast, but she was perceptive. She saw the look that passed between them as she tucked into her yogurt and fruit—worry crossed with terror crossed with amazement.

"You're Luke's father," she whispered.

Approaching slowly, almost warily, the apparition settled down next to her, giving Leia a good look at his face. Indeed, he shared Luke's jawline and nose, but where Luke was relatively short this man towered above her.

"Yes," he said. "Luke is your twin brother."

Leia shook her head with a skeptical laugh. "There is no way that's possible. This is just a crazy dream."

"I can assure you it's true," Anakin responded. "You were separated at birth."

"Why?" she asked. "If we're twins, why were we separated? Why did no one tell us?"

"To protect you."

"From what?" Leia watched as the man's head dipped, his face clouded in sadness or guilt—she couldn't tell which. "And where were you? Why come to me now?"

This is ridiculous, she thought. I'm arguing with a ghost in a dream.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, and then, before her eyes, began to fade back into the darkness.

"Wait!" Leia called out, frustrated, but he was gone. Standing up and flicking on the lights, she rubbed her eyes. Suddenly she wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep.

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"I may have to buy this when things settle down," Lando said, stroking the sleek control panel of the small silvery ship that Arthar had loaned them for their trip to Kuat. Technically a freighter, the ship's cockpit and living space had been renovated to more closely resemble a pleasure yacht, complete with a gourmet galley and full sized foam beds in the two cabins.

"Yeah, it's nice," Luke mumbled, trying to focus on reaching out through the Force as they made the short jump to Kuat. So far, he had no sense of Leia near the small planet or its distinctive orbital shipyards.

"So what's the plan, boss?" Lando tore himself away from admiring the sensor array and faced Luke. "You have a plan, right?"

Ignoring Chewbacca's indignant growl, Luke sat up straight and watched the starlines swirling around them. "We're going to land at the Kuat Leisure HQ and pretend to be tourists. We'll use that as a base of operations to locate the Chimaera and then figure out a way to get on board."

"Figure out a way?" Lando was unconvinced. "Luke, this is an Imperial-controlled installation, not Jabba's palace."

"Han and I have had luck using stormtrooper uniforms before," Luke said mildly.

"Okay…." Lando took another approach. "And if Chimaera isn't there?"

"We'll have Artoo hack into the Imperial network and find out where it went and if there were any prisoner transfers," Luke said confidently. Artoo squealed in agreement.

"You got this all figured out, don't you," Lando muttered in response as he took his place back at the controls. A few minutes later, a pleasant chiming sound echoed through the ship. "Looks like we're here."

Kuat loomed large and green in the viewport, its moons hovering on the far side of the planet well beyond the ring of ships and orbital stations that comprised the planet's eponymous ship building and repair facility. From their vantage point, the group could see the ominous silhouettes of at least two enormous Star Destroyers floating among the permanent installations. They all breathed a little easier as Lando shifted their trajectory towards the opposite side of the planet, where a light but steady stream of small personal craft made their way to and from the pleasant facility dedicated to the manufacture, sale, and repair of ships belonging to the upper crust of the Empire's civilian population.

"Please transmit your identification and destination," a tinny voice said over the comm. Lando pressed a button to send their ship's ID codes to the port authority and then sat back and waited for approval to land.

"This part always makes me nervous," Luke confessed as they watched other small yachts heading for the spaceport.

"What part is that?" Lando asked.

"Waiting to see if the codes work," Luke told him. Chewbacca nodded his head in agreement.

"I don't think Arthar gave us fake codes," Lando said reassuringly. "That's why we switched ships, right? So we could get in without having to disguise the ID?"

"I guess," Luke said, watching as three ships launched from a nearby platform. Flashing red lights accented the hull above the cockpit, and they were speeding towards them at an alarming velocity. "Lando, did he tell you where he got this ship?"

"No. Why?"

Luke's eyes widened as the three ships began hailing them. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Freighter Juanita!" A harsh sounding voice echoed over the comm. "Stand down and prepare for boarding immediately."

Lando rushed to the control panel. "This is Freighter Juanita. Can I ask what the problem is?"

"This ship has been reported stolen. Stand down and prepare for immediate boarding."

"Oh dear!" Threepio cried out. "I told you that man was a ship thief. We're doomed!"

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Han was finishing wiping down the mirrors in the men's bathroom when Leia stuck her head in.

"Hey," he said when he noticed her watching him. "It's not your shift yet. What are you doing up?"

"I had a really weird dream and couldn't sleep," she explained, suddenly feeling silly for having fled out of the room to find him. She smiled as Han gave the glass a final ostentatious swipe and then guided her out to the main dining room. Pouring her a glass of water, he settled next to her on one of the soft benches in a rear booth.

"Nightmare?" he asked, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Leia took a long drink of water and shook her head.

"Amazingly, no. It just seemed so real."

"Want to talk about it?" He was used to her refusing, not wanting to relive the horror of past events that haunted her sleep.

"You're going to think I'm nuts," she warned him. "I dreamt that a ghost appeared to me and told me that he was my biological father."

"That doesn't sound so crazy."

"It gets better," she said sarcastically. "He told me he was a Jedi. Not just any Jedi—Anakin Skywalker."

"Luke's father?"

"Yeah. Then he said we were twins separated at birth, and when I asked him why he disappeared."

"That is a little weird, even for you," Han admitted. "I wonder if you were just subconsciously trying to find an excuse for why Luke would be okay with us."

Rolling her eyes, Leia punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You would think that this was all about you."

"I'm serious!" Han protested. "Maybe you're feeling guilty about breaking his heart."

"I did not break his heart," she responded indignantly. "Where do you get off saying something like that?"

"Well…" Han puffed up proudly. "You did choose me."

"First of all," Leia sputtered, "You are impossible. Secondly, I was never going to end up with Luke."

"That's not what about half the people around the Fleet thought," Han teased her.

"What do you mean?" Then the truth dawned on her. "People were betting?"

Han grinned. "Don't be too upset. It was good clean fun. But plenty of people thought you and Luke were going to get together."

She sighed, wondering again if Luke had even made it safely out of the forest. She felt a sting of guilt about the fact that she hadn't been worrying about him lately. She'd had a mysterious but distinct feeling that he was fine, much as she'd had a mysterious and distinct feeling that he'd needed rescue under Bespin, but that was hardly proof positive. In fact, she concluded, her odd connection with Luke was probably what stimulated the troubling dream in the first place.

"I love Luke, don't get me wrong," she said, "But he's just so…Luke."

Laughing, Han kissed her. "I know what you mean, sweetheart. Now go back and get some rest. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."

Leia stood up to head back to the lounge, noticing that Han was leaving her very little to clean. She resolved to get more of the details of his previous janitorial experience out of him later as she ascended the steps. Laying her head down on the couch, she closed her eyes, but couldn't shake the intense feeling that someone was watching her.


	12. Chapter 12

Growling at Luke, Chewbacca took control of the ship and whirled around to face the security forces head on. While not as heavily armed as the Millennium Falcon, the small freighter had a decent arsenal of laser weaponry that the Wookiee began activating in preparation for a quick offensive against the rapidly approaching ship.

"No!" Luke cried, putting a hand on Chewie's arm. "Shooting our way out isn't going to get us anywhere!"

"What exactly would you propose as an alternative?" Lando asked tightly, squeezing his armrests. "Let them throw us in some Imperial prison?"

Luke thought a moment. "Is there any way to find out who the ship really belongs to?"

Without waiting for any of the sentient beings to respond to Luke's inquiry, Artoo extended a plug and latched himself into an empty computer port. A moment later, he bleeped at Threepio.

"How rude!" the protocol droid exclaimed. "I am not going to take an infinite number of cycles to tell them. In fact, I was going to immediately pass along your message had you not taken the initiative to insult me…"

"What did he say?" Luke interrupted, before Chewbacca got sick of Threepio's rambling and finally ripped the droid's head off.

"He said that this ship is registered to one Lieutenant Governor Okshir from the planet Egen VIII."

"Never heard of it," Luke murmured as a second security ship joined their pursuer. "Is he human?"

"Forgive me, Master Luke," Threepio stammered. "My files on Egen VIII are somewhat limited. It is an Imperial aligned planet in the Outer Rim ruled by a hereditary oligarchy that swore loyalty to Emperor Palpatine following the first…."

"Human," Luke repeated sternly, cutting the droid off midsentence. "I asked if they were human."

"Why, yes, Master Luke."

"Thank you, Threepio." Luke took a cleansing breath before turning to his other companions. "Okay, here's the plan…."

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"I am afraid I don't have any identification, officer." Luke tried to mimic the aura of confident entitlement that Leia was so often able to exude when they got themselves into a pinch. "As I said, I was kidnapped, as were my companions here. My captors weren't courteous enough to allow me to gather my personal effects before removing me so violently from my home."

"Right, right, sir." The Kuati security patroller rolled his eyes, clearly torn between his desire to get rid of the obnoxious noble from some unknown Outer Rim planet and his niggling suspicion that the man was lying through his teeth. "It's just that we need to verify a few things."

"Of course," Luke replied calmly, using the Force to encourage the man to trust him. "But I also want to get on the tail of those ruffians as soon as possible. They invaded my home once, and my poor wife and children may be in some danger should they try to return to…" He paused for a second, blanking on the name of the planet "…my compound."

"Again, sir, I just need to verify a few things. First, how did these other passengers come to be on your ship?"

"The man was brought on a few days after I was taken. As far as I understand, their intent was ransom."

"And the Wookiee?"

"They held him as a slave. I'm not sure if he belonged to them outright or was stolen property as well." Though he was merely playing a part, it galled Luke to refer to Chewbacca as property, and his discomfort with the situation was only heightened when the officer nodded knowingly.

Looking down at a screen, the officer sat silently for a moment, then turned back to address Luke. "I'm afraid our regulations require us to impound your ship for the time being. As a courtesy, you and your…companions will be given room and board while we complete our investigation."

"I'm not rooming with a Wookiee!"

"Private rooms, Mr. Okshir," the man clarified.

"Lieutenant Governor Okshir, please."

"Of course. Lieutenant Governor. Follow me, please?"

"May I at least retrieve my few belongings from the ship?" Luke asked haughtily. The man nodded, sighing, and gestured Luke out of the room. He let out a silent breath, glad his charade had worked and hoping that his luck would hold. Being stuck on an orbital station in Imperial space with no ship wasn't his idea of a sound strategy.

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"Big boss heard that we're a high class joint now," Buff commented as Han began setting out glasses in preparation for the day's bar service. "Said he might come by tonight."

"Who is the big boss?" Leia asked, tying an apron around her waist. "It would be nice to know who's paying us?"

"Name's Malbar Wa-Janar," Buff told her.

"Never heard of him," Han said. He turned to check the liquor supply, catching a surreptitious glance at Leia in the mirror on the bar back as she bent over a table to retrieve a stray napkin that had fallen on the floor.

"Should we have?" Leia saw Han's smirk and blushed, realizing he'd been ogling her behind Buff's back.

"Just be polite and you'll be fine." Buff counted out the last of the change in the register and slammed it shut. "So long as he likes you, you'll be set for life."

"What is he, Black Sun or something?" Han asked, chuckling at Buff's melodramatic tone. He didn't notice Leia blanch and turn back quickly to sorting silverware.

"Just do your work," Buff responded, winking at Han as he headed towards the 'fresher. "You'll be fine."

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The late lunch/early dinner crowd was heavy enough that Buff came in to help Leia take orders and bring food from the droid staffed kitchen into the main dining area. A few of the families who came into dine, attracted by the reports of a clean and friendly atmosphere, were disheartened to see the gnarled, heavyset humanoid approach to take their drink orders instead of the pleasant looking young woman, but generally the evening continued smoothly as more and more beings crowded around the bar looking for companionship, dinner, or intoxicants.

Leia greeted two human women at the door, nodding politely as they prattled on about their adventures in the underground earlier that day. She pegged them for low level Imperial staff immediately, based both on their relatively clean and fashionable attire and their affected Coruscanti accents.

"Just came down for work," one of them explained. "I'd never been here before, of course, but we had to pick up a package and the gentleman….well, he was an alien…"

"But he was very kind," the other interrupted.

"He sent us here. Said it would give us a good taste of the atmosphere down here."

"I've never been one much for slumming it…."

"But it is fun now again…"

"Oh!" The first woman, a medium height blonde with an enormous shoulder bag, looked disdainfully at the table to which Leia had escorted them.

"Is there a problem?" the princess asked innocently.

The woman raised an eyebrow at the couple seated at the next table over, a pair of Twi'leks sipping one of Han's concoctions and tangling their lekku together. "I'd prefer to be seated in a…human-only area?"

Leia smiled thinly, gritting her teeth as she took them to an isolated table in a dark corner. "Will this be better?"

"Oh, yes, thank you, miss."

Leia handed them menus and turned to walk back to the entry when the second woman touched her arm. "Excuse me. May I ask you something?"

Looking over quickly at Han, who was buried three deep in bar patrons, Leia let her arm drift casually to her side. The blaster she had found was tucked tightly into her pants. "How can I help you?"

"Well," said the woman shyly, "Can you tell me a little about who fixed this place up? We heard quite a bit about a sudden turnaround…"

"My, uh, husband and I did ," Leia told her, taking a calming breath and reassuring herself that these two Imperial staff weren't going to drag her and Han to prison. "May I ask why you were interested?"

Glancing at her companion, who was staring moodily at the drinks list, the woman continued, "As it happens I'm in charge of finding some new cleaning and service staff for my organization. It's a good position."

"Oh," Leia answered with a polite smile. "I don't know. We're quite settled here."

"Think about it. We'll be here for a bit."

"All right," Leia said to placate her. She had no intention of finding out what Imperial agency cafeteria this woman was recruiting for. "I'll be back in a moment for your order."

She kept a careful eye on the two women in the corner as more patrons flowed in. A fair number of the more recent guests seemed to be women around the age her parents would be had they not been blown to atoms four years previous. The bulk of them brushed her off as she tried to seat them in the main dining area, preferring instead to push their way up to the front of the crowd attempting to attract the attention of the handsome new bartender. Smiling wickedly, Leia laughed as she saw one old crone reach out to chuck Han under the chin as he mixed poured her a double whiskey. She would have fun teasing him after last call tonight.

Hearing the kitchen bell ring, she scurried over to take some plates to a table with a large family of Bith squeezed in cheek-by-jowl. She didn't notice the commotion at the door until an unfamiliar man, dressed in impeccably pressed black trousers and a silk shirt, approached her and removed a menu from her hand.

"You," he said sternly. "Malbar Wa-Janar does not like to be kept waiting."

Leia scowled at him, then turned to look at the door. Among a group of hangers-on dressed identically to the man who had accosted her stood a tall human with slicked back brown hair and a pointed goatee that shone with pomade even in the dim lighting. That must be Malbar, she thought, then looked at him more carefully. He seemed vaguely familiar…..

"Go!" The man who had taken the menu gave her a shove towards the entry way. As she tripped towards them, she mused that the young lackey was lucky that Han hadn't noticed his treatment of her. The Corellian captain was very skilled at using broken beer bottles as a deadly weapon.

"Master Wa-Janar." Leia kept her eyes down, praying that Buff had seen the "Big Boss" come in and would help her out. She assumed he had a special table somewhere, but had no idea where it might be.

Wa-Janar looked at her disdainfully. "So you're the new girl? From how Buff described you I was expecting someone prettier." Leia kept her mouth shut, wondering what the hell Buff had told this guy. This close, she felt like she was drowning in the smell of his cologne, and wondered how long she could go without coughing.

"May I show you to your table?" she said finally, her voice creaking with the effort not to choke audibly. Hopefully she could bluff long enough so that one of the lackeys would lead the way.

"Wait a minute." Wa-Janar reached out, using two fingers to lift her chin and force her to look him in the eye. "You look familiar. Where do I know you from?"

Leia shook her head. Admittedly, she thought he looked familiar too, but there was no way in hell she was going to say that out loud.

He looked her up and down, then dropped his hand. Chewing his lip, he added slowly, "I would swear I had seen you somewhere recently…." She shuddered slightly as he spent a few long seconds staring at her body. "Do you…dance?"

Kriff. That's where she knew him from. She whirled around and led them through the crowded restaurant, hoping that she could take her leave before his memory was jogged and he recalled that the last place he had seen her was when he paid a courtesy call to Jabba the Hutt.

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"I need you to handle Wa-Janar's table," Leia told Buff firmly as she found him in the dining room. The big man shook his head.

"Nope. He wants you. Said so personally." He drew out the syllables of the last word, as though he were savoring the task of handing off the boss to another victim.

"I can't…" Leia protested as she looked up to see yet another slickly dressed groupie approaching her through the crowd. "Please."

Buff gave her an unusually frank look of sympathy. "Nothin' I can do. He'll be done soon enough."

Suppressing a look of revulsion, Leia smiled wanly at the approaching aide and held up the bottle of wine that she clutched in her hand. "I'll be there in one moment," she told him.

"Cancel that order," the man responded brusquely. "Master Wa-Janar wants to open the bottle of 200 year reserve instead. And…" he smiled toothily. "He invites you to join us for a drink."

Blanching, Leia nodded, grateful for the opportunity to duck behind the bar.

"Hey, sweetheart." Han grinned when he saw her, holding up a hand to the three boisterous young men who were pounding the bar demanding shots of a particularly cheap potable that was popular with plebes on Carida. "Long time no see."

"We have a problem," she whispered in his ear, confirming that the three patrons were indeed far too inebriated to both overhear and interpret her words. "The big boss is here and he wants me join them for a drink."

"You can handle him," Han told her with a squeeze on the shoulder. "I've seen you take down way scarier guys than that bozo."

"You don't understand," she said, the timbre of her voice rising in desperation. "He was there when….he saw me….I think he expects…" She cut off her stammering abruptly, not knowing what to tell him.

Han bent down, pretending to examine the supply of bottles below the bar, and pulled her next to him. "What are you talking about?"

"He was there. At Jabba's. When we were being held."

"So?"

"He thinks….he…" Leia took a deep breath. "He thinks I'm some kind of….harem girl or something. I think he expects me to perform for him." She spat out the words in disgust.

Han stared at her, confused. "Why in the nine hells of Corellia would he think that?" Then it struck him. Memories of the dancing girls kept like pets chained to Jabba's side. The bruises and raw sores on Leia's neck that she refused to discuss. "He made you…" He stopped, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of the sink basin as Leia looked away, not wanting to face him. It was enough that she had risked her life and her freedom to come for him. To be subjected to Jabba's tender mercies while he wallowed in self-pity, thinking he had it bad to be confined with Chewie in a bleak dungeon. He couldn't even get the words out.

"I have a way out for us," Leia said firmly, ever the unflappable planner. "The woman in the corner has a job…we can get out of here tonight." Han just nodded mutely, taking a swig of whiskey before standing up and returning his attention to the guys at the bar who were increasingly agitated about their empty glasses. "But right now he wants a..." she tried to remember precisely what was said, "200 year reserve?"

"That ain't cheap," Han muttered. He'd noticed the aged whiskies, including the storied Corellian Whyren's Reserve that was kept in a locked, temperature controlled plastisteel cabinet under the bar. He'd never seen a key though. "Gonna have to ask Buff how to get it out."

"And then what?"

"I'll take it in to him," Han told her. "You get us set up with that job."

"Han…" Leia whispered in a warning tone as she headed out to find Buff. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Hey," he responded with a shrug, the fire in his eyes belying the mirth in his voice. "It's me."


	13. Chapter 13

Waving Buff over to tend bar for a minute, Leia grabbed a tray and made her way over to the corner where the two women were chatting as they sipped white wine.

"This is a little warm for my taste," one said as Leia approached the table, holding out her glass. Leia rolled her eyes inwardly, thinking that the temperature would hardly impact the taste of the low quality varietal they'd picked.

"Sorry about that," she responded with a sympathetic smile. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Just the check," the second woman said, taking out her bag.

"Actually, before you go…" Leia leaned down. "I spoke with my husband, and we are in fact interested in the position you have available."

Beaming, her customer reached into her bag and pulled out a card with an address written on it. "I'm so glad. We're quite desperate for good staff right now. Meet me here tomorrow and we'll get you set up. What's your name?"

"Kim," she said, spitting out the first name that came to mind. "Kim Pandall. My husband is Tocal."

"Morena," the woman responded, holding out a hand. "Are you from Fenion? I knew a Tocal from Fenion once."

"My husband's family is," Leia said, trying not to stammer. "We're both Cor…Imperial Center born and raised."

If Morena had caught her slip, she didn't let on that she was bothered. Instead she handed Leia a credit chip. "See you tomorrow then, Kim."

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"My new waitress getting changed?" Wa-Janar laughed as Han strode in, clutching the bottle of ruinously expensive whiskey around the neck. He turned to one of his interchangeable subordinates. "You told her to put on something less comfortable, right?"

"I'm helping you the rest of the night," Han told him, slamming the bottle down in front of the self-styled mafioso. "You want anything else?"

Immediately the two men nearest the door jumped up, pulling vibro blades out of their belts and pointing them at Han as he walked casually towards the exit.

"You owe Master Wa-Janar an apology," one of them rumbled. "Now."

"I'm sorry," Han sneered in Wa-Janar's direction. "Did I frighten you? I didn't mean to."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Wa-Janar's eyebrow twitched as he scowled at Han. Clearly he wasn't accustomed to disrespect, at least not in his own restaurant. "Get out of my place before I have the boys here rearrange your internal organs." Han made no move. "Gerlan, get that girl in her. I'm sick of waiting."

"You go anywhere near her and you'll be wiping your internal organs off the upholstery," Han said quietly. "Now why don't you boys just drink your whiskey and find someone else to clean your toilets for you?"

The one Wa-Janar called Gerlan made a move towards the door, but Han was a blink ahead of him and blocked his path, revealing a huge kitchen knife that he'd secreted away before coming back to the private lounge. "I said don't." Gerlan looked him in the eye and then stepped back, waiting for a positive order from Wa-Janar before engaging in conduct that might get him hurt. He wasn't paid well enough to be proactive.

"What do you care anyways?" Wa-Janar continued, annoyed that his men hadn't yet dispatched the strange new bartender. He'd seen staff for Jabba or Xizor take out interlopers for far less: someday, he told himself, he'd be powerful enough to find bodyguards that would kill at the wink of an eye. For now he'd have to deal with the hand he was played though. "She's just some dancer. Better dancer than a waitress, I'd say." He winked at the man beside him and chuckled. "Bet there's other stuff she's good at too."

Han consider launching himself at the man just to wipe the grin off his face, but held back. Must be getting practical in my old age, he thought to himself.

"I have a deal for you," he said instead. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that, and you can pretend you never met either of us."

"Doesn't sound like much of a deal," Wa-Janar responded nonchalantly.

"Or," Han continued, "You can make one more comment about her and I'll pick one of your appendages to cut off and shove down your throat." He looked pointedly at Wa-Janar, letting his eyes drop down to the table directly in front of the man. "I already have an idea which one I'll choose."

Gerlan took a step towards Han, holding up his own knife.

"You really want to try this?" Han asked. "I've been in knife fights to the death against groups of guys before. I ended up with this." He pointed to the scar on his chin. "I'll let you use your imagination about the other guys." He stared at Gerlan, then aimed his gaze back at Wa-Janar.

"Fine." Wa-Janar could tell that the stranger's bluffing was getting to his men, and they were more likely to leave him alone to fight than to stand up and take care of things like they were paid to do. "Get out. And don't expect any pay for tonight."

"You can keep the six credits," Han said, rolling his eyes. He gave one more warning look to the rest of the men gathered around the table, and then stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

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Leia was standing behind the bar chewing her lip nervously when Han walked calmly back out. "You got the job figured out?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah." She showed him the card. "We meet them tomorrow."

"Good. Go back and grab our stuff and let's get out of here."

"What stuff?"

"After I went through all that trouble to buy you a toothbrush, you're just going to abandon it? Here, of all places?"

"Shut up, nerfherder."

She slipped back down the hall, looking carefully for any sign of Wa-Janar and his men, and hastily threw the few belongings and the small stash of cash they'd accumulated into a bag. Keeping her head down, she walked back out towards the bar, fingering the blaster in her waistband.

As she turned a corner in the hall, a pair of hands shot out, pulling her backwards into an alcove. She took a breath to scream, but was muffled as her assailant reached up to slap a hand over her mouth. He wrapped grabbed one wrist with the other arm, wrenching it behind her painfully and pulling her into his body as he tried to pin her free arm behind her back. The motion was all she needed though—in a flash, she wriggled one arm free and flipped the blaster backwards, pumping a shot into her captor's gut. He grunted and released her, collapsing backwards.

A split second glance confirmed to her that it was one of Wa-Janar's men, and she concealed the blaster as she ran full speed back to Han. Shoving her way through the crowd at the bar, she pulled him out and towards the door, ignoring the shouted protests of the waiting customers behind them.

"What happened?" he panted, following her out into the dank streets at a full sprint. She held tight to his hand and kept running, whipping around a corner and into a market area before stopping to catch her breath. "Are you okay?"

"One of Wa-Janar's guys grabbed me in the hallway. I killed him."

"I thought you said not to do anything stupid!" he snapped. "Now they're going to be after us."

"What was I supposed to do?" she hissed back. "Let him drag me off?"

Han looked up at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings as he listened for any sounds of pursuit. "No, of course not." He gave her a kiss on the forehead before pulling her close. "We'll be okay."

"Do you think we can just get off planet?" she asked quietly, snuggling into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I have no idea how locked down things are on the surface. I hate to risk flying commercial though."

She nodded silently, then took out the card that Morena had given her. "I guess we should head for our rendezvous. I told her we were Kim and Tocal Pandall."

"So you're still willing to be my wife?" Han grinned.

"To play your wife," Leia retorted. "Let's not take things too fast here, flyboy."

"As long as there are privileges that come along with playing." He bent down to kiss her, lingering in the embrace as the market grew more crowded around them. "Shall we go then, Mrs. Pandall?"

She took his arm. "How far is it?"

"Horizontally, not far," he said, perusing the card. "Vertically, quite a ways."

"Fair enough. Where do you think we should go tonight then?"

He rubbed his chin. "We probably have enough to get a room, if you don't mind using some of the money."

Leia sighed. It had been so long since she'd gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of hanging around waiting for Wa-Janar to find them wasn't appealing. But they might need the money for a charter…"I don't know."

"Or we could trade this." Han reached behind him, pulling out a slim bottle that had been tucked into his pocket. Leia took it with a confused look.

"You stole this? What is it?"

"Bottle of Chandrilan gorryflower liqueur that Wa-Janar had been hoarding," he told her. "Fetches a pretty penny on the black market. I thought you might like it, but I'm starting to think you might like a night in a real bed even more."

She gave him a skeptical look, and then smiled. "All right then. You really know how to impress a girl."

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"I thought you said this was the civilian side of Kuat!" Lando leaned in close to Luke's ear, keeping his head down as two uniformed Imperial officers walked past them.

"I guess they're on leave," Luke said, glancing around with equal trepidation at another small group of soldiers that were meandering through the casino floor. "Maybe we can use this to our advantage."

"How? By getting arrested?"

Luke sighed. "Don't be such a pessimist. They have as much reason to be afraid of us as we do of them at this point."

"They're Imps, not spiders," Lando whispered. "Let's go back to the room and figure things out."

"You go ahead," Luke murmured, spotting something up ahead. "I want to go check something out."

"No. No separating, remember? Chewie said that's what got us into this whole mess in the first place."

"Fine. But I'm going over there." He made a beeline for a huge holoscreen near a bar.

It was surrounded by a mix of Imperial troops, civilian travelers, and even a few non-humans who steered clear of the Imperials as they sipped their wine or cocktails and watched the news. A holo of Emperor Palpatine filled the display, which then faded to black while somber music played. Finally the image changed over to an empty stage that was set up with multiple microphones. As the crowd quieted, six men made their way to the podiums. They wore the deep red robes associated with mourning on many of the core worlds, and each had wrapped a black band around his upper arm. One of them raised a hand, imitating the gesture Palpatine used so often to quiet a gathering of subjects.

" Loyal citizens of the Empire," he began, "I come before you today to assure you that the brutal murder of our beloved Emperor will not shake us from our resolve to promote peace and prosperity around the galaxy. At this moment, our finest troops are hunting down those who would dare to try to destroy those institutions that define our civil society. The Emperor's murderers will be brought to justice." He paused to allow his live audience to cheer. "And now, I am humbled and honored to announce that I have been appointed as the new leader of our great Empire. Together, we shall overcome these challenges and rise up even stronger in the face of adversity."

"Who is that?" Luke asked Lando softly as the man continued to speak.

"Sate Pestage," Lando told him, "Emperor's top dog, other than Vader. You never ran across him?"

"No," Luke responded. "I guess I was always focused on Palpatine and Vader. He's a political guy?"

Lando glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. The rest of the crowd was mesmerized by Pestage's announcement, watching as the man introduced his fellow councilors. "Yeah. He's been running things on the ground for a couple years."

"Guess I should have paid more attention during the briefings," Luke admitted. "Didn't really need to know much about who's who when you're dogfighting, you know?" Lando nodded, then put a finger to his lips so he could listen to the rest of the press conference.

"Because of the ongoing emergency," Pestage went on, "Freight traffic in and out of Imperial Center will be restricted to military convoys. The existing security protocols for Core World travel will remain in place, and I will be appointing additional regional governors in the coming weeks to guard against additional incursions in our outer systems. To those who would do us harm, know this!" He looked directly at the camera. "If you do not stand down and surrender, your lives are forfeit. This Empire will not tolerate insurrection."

"Big words from someone who just got his Emperor killed." Luke looked up, trying to see who had made the comment. A human male, stretching his legs over a small ottoman at the front of the room, laughed at his own remark. A few empty beer mugs in front of him indicated that he might not have thought hard about when and where he was making his quips, especially as the few Imperial officers began to surround him.

"Want to say that a little louder?" one of them asked, unholstering his blaster. "Would be good for the folks here to know whose side you're on?"

Eyes wide at the sight of the blaster barrel pointing at his head, the man gulped and shrunk back into his seat. "Didn't mean anything by it," he stammered. "My apologies."

"Why don't you come with us and we'll have a little chat?" another officer said, grabbing the man's arms. Luke touched his lightsaber, pondering whether to intervene, when the drunken man abruptly stood and took a swing at the soldier who had grabbed his arm.

A moment later a single shot rang out, and the man slumped back into the chair. "You heard the Emperor!" the officer called out to the shocked crowd. "Insurrection will not be tolerated."

Lando grabbed Luke's arm, pulling him backwards as the crowd parted to let the officers through. One of them looked up at the young Jedi as he walked by, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Luke's face. Luke stared back, then, with a wave of his hand, sent the man on with no memory of their encounter.

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"How many nights did you get us with that bottle?" Leia asked with a wide smile as Han escorted her into the room.

"One," he admitted. "But this is the honeymoon suite. Seemed appropriate."

"Han!" She picked up one of the enormous pillows that decorated the (sole, she noticed) bed and smacked him with it. He grabbed it from her and pushed her down onto the soft mattress, pinning her shoulders as he dropped his head to kiss her.

"Only the best for my princess," he said, releasing her to catch her breath.

"Anything is pretty good compared to being cuffed to a seat on an Imperial shuttle," she teased, pulling his head down to kiss her again. "It's certainly the nicest place I've been in a while."

"About that." Han sat up, stroking her back as she cuddled down into the pillows. "Leia, what happened at Jabba's? When we were headed to Sullust you told me…"

"I know. It's not a big deal." She hadn't told him much, just implying that she'd been imprisoned as he had been and held on the sail barge during their escape. She hadn't lied, per se, but also hadn't felt the need to be specific when he was still so weak from being trapped in the carbonite.

"It's a big deal to me," he said.

"Why?" Leia flipped over and sat up to look at him, eyes narrow. "You worried I've been tainted or something?"

"No!" Han put his arms around her. "That's not it at all. I just don't want you feeling like you have to hide everything from me."

She was silent. They'd had versions of this conversation many times over the years, usually concluding with Han accusing her of being out of touch with her own feelings. She had no stomach for another fight about her emotional wellbeing.

"This isn't just about you anymore," Han told her, as though he could read her thoughts. "Believe it or not, I care about what happens to you."

"And I care about what happens to you," she said. "But that doesn't mean we change what's already happened by talking about it."

Han sighed, kicking himself for getting her back up just when they were starting to relax a little. "Think of it this way then. Maybe I'm imagining things were worse than they really were. If you tell me what happened, I won't have to imagine anymore."

Leia raised her eyebrows, trying to judge whether he was being forthright or whether this was just a ploy to get her to try his strategy of talking things out.

"Sweetheart, I'm serious here."

"All right." Leia took a deep breath. Of all the things he might ask her to relive, at least this wasn't the worst. "After they took you away, Jabba had me dragged up to his throne…or whatever it was…and told me that I owed him for the trouble I caused and that he was going to let me pay it off by dancing for him. When I told him to go to hell—I used a little saltier language than that—he had…." She stopped for a moment, tears forming in her eyes at the memory of her fury and humiliation. "He had his guards rip my clothes off in front of everyone. Then they took me back to this room with a bunch of other women and said that if I didn't put on a dancer's outfit they were going to…."

"What?" he asked quietly, pulling her close.

"They were going to bring you out and feed you to the rancor in front of me," she concluded, regaining her composure. "I couldn't let that happen. Then they took me back to Jabba and put this chain around my neck. That's what happened."

He held her silently, listening to her ragged breathing as he squeezed her tightly against him. "I'm sorry," he finally murmured. "I'm sorry, Leia."

She pulled away, swiping at her tears and pasting a smile back on her face. "It's over now. I imagine Jabba is regretting that chain now, where ever he is."

"Why is that?"

"I used it to strangle him," she told him. "I honestly don't know how I did it—he must have been twenty times my weight, but I did."

Han laughed gently at her proud expression, then kissed her again. "Let's get some rest," he said finally. "Unless you're interested in anything else at the moment?"

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The next morning, Han gingerly poked Leia awake. "Time to get to the new job, sweetheart," he whispered as she groaned a request for five more minutes. Grudgingly she dragged herself out of bed, luxuriated in a hot shower, and was finishing fixing her hair when Han knocked urgently on the 'fresher door.

"C'mon, we're going to be late," he said.

They walked to a nearby lift, bracing themselves for a return to the surface. It had been several days since they'd arrived on Coruscant to riots and indiscriminate slaughter by legions of stormtroopers, but Leia clung tightly to her blaster nonetheless. They were pleasantly surprised to find a sunny day with a few weary souls scurrying from place to place but little violence marring the quiet streets.

"Let's get a cab," Han suggested, hailing one of the droid-operated liveries before Leia could object. He gave the driver the coordinates and settled in to watch the streets pass by. "Wonder where this gig is?"

The sky outside began to darken, and Leia peeked out the window to see that the sun was being obscured by buildings. A concerned look suddenly crossed her face as the cab slowed to a stop.

"Your destination, gentles," the droid said, popping open the locks on the doors. With no small amount of trepidation, Han stepped out, leading Leia to the doorway marked with the address on their card. It was a non-descript door marked "Employment Office IV," built into the side of a dark monolith that dominated the nearby skyline.

Han leaned over to Leia. "Seriously?" he whispered. She didn't answer, but then spotted Morena through one of the transparisteel windows and made an attempt at a friendly wave. She nudged Han to get him to step inside, but he ignored her.

"Han!" she hissed finally. "Let's go."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he hissed back. "Never been in the Imperial Palace before."


	14. Chapter 14

"A noble statement, your majesty." Sate Pestage suppressed a look of disdain as he turned to shake Ars Dangor's hand. Dangor had stood grimacing at a podium beside him as he made his short speech, and now took a diagonal half step to place himself squarely between Pestage and the assembled holocameras that were filming the end of the press conference. The journalists refrained from shouting questions, well trained by twenty years of autocratic rule and further encouraged by the line of military officials and stormtroopers that blockaded the stage. Presumably they were also somewhat suspicious that a number of their colleagues were in fact undercover Imperial intelligence agents as well, keeping their ears open for any whispers of treachery.

"There is no need for that honorific," Pestage told him as he freed his hand to acknowledge his fellow surviving councilors who had joined them on stage. "Yet." He gave a brisk nod to the stormtrooper captain in front of the stage, and the room was cleared.

"You do realize," a female voice spoke up behind him as the last journalist was hustled out of the room—a large ballroom that had been reconfigured for such events deep in the Imperial palace—that you have now committed us to making a major strike against the Rebels in spite of our diminished capacity?" Though directed at Pestage, the words were amplified to ensure that the rest of the councilors heard them as well.

"Director Isard, you of all people should understand that such an action was required whether I spoke it aloud or not." Pestage refused to turn around and look the Empire's Director of Intelligence as he was speaking.

Ysanne Isard ignored the insult. "And if our troops are unsuccessful, or-Palpatine forbid-fall victim to another major loss? How will your taunts be seen then?"

"Don't deify the Emperor for my sake, Isard." Pestage finally turned, looking stonily at the woman who towered over him. "It was your failure to anticipate the Rebels' capabilities that led to his death more than anything."

"And now you plan to honor him by allowing those outlaws to strike another blow at our government?"

"If you can manage to do your job properly, that will not happen." Pestage turned to sweep regally down the steps towards his awaiting attendants. "And Director, in the future, please remember to whom you are speaking. I did assist our late emperor in developing policies for dealing with insubordination."

Isard watched him leave, standing at attention at the emptying stage and ignoring the droids that had swarmed up to clear away microphones and podiums.

"He isn't completely wrong, you know." Dangor walked up next to her and graced her with a smarmy smile. "I read the intelligence reports. The Rebels were never supposed to be able to take down the shield array on Endor."

"Survivors are trickling in," she responded. "I have a feeling there was more to this than a simple intelligence failure."

"Like what?" Despite his condescending manners, Ars Dangor had great respect for the Director of Intelligence. She'd proven her worth through blocking several Rebel attacks and capturing more than one high level leader of the insurgency.

"Betrayal from the inside," she told him. "But that's only a theory right now. Keep that in mind."

"Of course, Madam Director."

"Though as a theory, it does suggest we should be cautious about our next moves until we discover more details about how the Death Star was destroyed."

"I'll do what I can," Dangor promised. "But you must understand that Pestage is highly cognizant of his own vulnerability right now. He will be looking to make a major strike at the Rebels, and soon."

"Then we have our work cut out for us, don't we?"

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"You have no idea how glad I am that you were willing to join us," Morena gushed. Leia smiled at her, a million questions about what the hell was going on running through her head. Why would the Imperial Palace be looking for new staff in the underground, and why hadn't a dozen troopers popped out to arrest them yet? Was this a joke?

"To be perfectly frank," Morena continued, "We've lost a lot of people in the last few weeks. A lot. Just took off for goodness knows where, and some were killed in the violence."

"Yeah," Han spoke up, seeing an opportunity. "That's how we ended up down in the underground. Rioters set our place on fire and chased us off. Only got out with the clothes on our back."

"I suppose I can't really ask you for identification then, can I?" Morena said with a sympathetic look. Leia, marveling at Han's ability to anticipate their needs, shook her head. "Oh well. Hard times and all. Can't really be too picky."

"What exactly will you have us doing?" Leia inquired.

"And what's the pay?" Han chimed in, not flinching as Leia kicked him in the shin, her assault hidden from Morena by the large desk at which they were gathered.

"Of course, of course. Right now, I need cleaning and maintenance crew the most. We've got some areas where we can't have droids. The kitchen may need workers as well. We can pay 15 credits hourly for each of you, plus room and board."

"Sounds pretty decent. Where exactly is the job?"

"We call it Central Facility. The maintenance portion covers the council offices, the ballrooms, meeting halls, things like that. The kitchen services the cabinet and council." She cocked her head. "Well, what do you think?"

"Can I speak to my wife outside briefly before we make a decision?" Han asked, giving Morena a sparkling smile. She blushed slightly and gestured towards the door.

Han kept the smile pasted on his face as they stepped outside.

"No way," he said resolutely, seeing the gleam of opportunity in Leia's eyes. "We are not going to put ourselves on a platter for the Imperial Council."

"How can you even consider turning down this chance?" she argued. "These guys are the only thing holding the Empire together right now, and we can just walk right in."

"And do what?"

"We'll have access to their offices, their food….there is no way I am not taking this opportunity."

"It doesn't seem the tiniest bit suspicious to you," Han said, trying another tactic, "That they are just plucking us out of nowhere and sending us into the Imperial Palace? What if it's a trap?"

"If it was a trap, why wouldn't they just arrest us now? Han, please…we didn't get to help on Endor. Let's do our part here."

"And if we're captured? You really don't think they'll recognize us?"

"Morena didn't."

"Morena is an idiot, Leia."

"And we'd both be idiots to give up this shot to take out the Empire once and for all….General."

"Hey, I didn't ask for that title."

"Well, you've got it now. Let's make something of it."

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Chewbacca was sitting on the small bed in his adjoining room, occasionally smacking the side of the cheap holoproj in an attempt to get rid of the static in the feed when Luke and Lando knocked on the door to join him. Luke glanced over at the corner of the room, noticing that Chewie had switched off Threepio—probably the moment they left for the public areas of the orbital.

"What's the plan?" Chewbacca barked, turning off the holoproj in annoyance. "You find out where Han and Leia are?"

"No," Lando responded, then quickly translated for Luke.

"I have an idea though," Luke added quickly. "We need to find a way to infiltrate those troops."

"That worked so well last time," Chewie grumbled with an eyeroll.

Without waiting for a translation, Luke continued. "Did you notice that a fair number of the uniformed personnel down in the lobby had some kind of injury?" Lando nodded. "I'd bet my X-wing that they are coming in from Endor. If we can get the right disguise, we can try to set up some debriefings and see what we can find out."

"You don't think they're already doing that over on the military side?" Lando pointed out.

"You have a better idea?" Luke snapped. "Every minute we waste, Leia is in danger."

"What about Han?" Chewbacca grumbled. "You forget about him?"

"Yeah," Lando agreed, not bothering to repeat the Wookiee's words. "What about Han?"

"I want to find Han too. But Leia…look, it's just important, okay?"

Lando sighed. "Luke, I know how much Leia means to you. But you have to understand, she's with Han now."

"I hope so."

"That's not what I mean. You've seen them together, Luke. She's with Han—as in, in a relationship with him."

Luke rubbed the bridge of his nose, simultaneously embarrassed and amused by what Lando was implying. "Trust me, that's not what this is about."

"You want to tell us what it is about then?" Chewbacca asked, more curious than hostile. Lando repeated the question.

"Not right now," Luke told them. "Soon, but not right now. C'mon, let's go see if we can jump some Imps. Shall we start at the bar?"

"I hope you know what you're doing," Lando said, checking his blaster before following Luke out the door.

They made their way down to a more casual establishment showing a rerun of a smashball game that was only half visible through the smoky air. His confidence bolstered by his years running around with Han Solo, Luke sauntered up to the bar and sat down next to two men in civilian clothes but with the unmistakable air of professional soldiers. One of them had his arm in a sling. Lando hung back at a small bar table, watching Luke out of the corner of his eye.

"Looks rough, soldier," Luke said, deepening his voice as he waved at the bartender for a beer. "Buy you a drink as thanks for your service?"

"Thank you," the man responded genuinely, then turned to his companion. "See, and you said the people around here were ingrates."

Luke laughed roughly. "Some of 'em are, to be fair." He gestured up at the smashball game. "Who's your team?"

"Dreadnaughts, of course," the man chuckled. "Are there any others?"

"Are you kidding me?" his companion asked, turning towards them. Glancing up from his drink, Luke saw that the man had half of his head shaved, revealing a long line of stitches over his scalp. "The Skull Crackers are gonna kick their asses half way to the Outer Rim this season. Half their players are on disability."

"Say what you want, man, but the 'Naughts are winning the championship again this year."

Luke laughed again, then turned serious. "So you all saw some action recently?" He waved for the bartender to refill both men's glasses.

"Action? Kriff, we saw armageddon, friend."

"Daze, shut up, man."

"It's all over the news, Blarken. Not like I'm giving away state secrets here."

Giving Daze a little nudge with the Force, Luke took a small sip of his own drink. "What ship were you on?"

"We were both on Chimaera," Daze said, gulping his fresh ale as Blarken shook his head in disgust and turned back to the game. "Lot of the guys here were. Mostly just because there weren't many other ships that made it out."

"You were at Endor?" Luke asked quietly.

Daze looked down, concentrating on the small bubbles rising up from the bottom of his glass. "Yeah, man. Lost a lot of good people there."

Luke patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, discovering he felt an odd camaraderie with the soldier. True, they had been out to kill each other, but that didn't mean they wouldn't each mourn their personal losses. At the same time, this guy was the best link he had right now with his sister and best friend.

"How did you know we were at Endor?" Blarken spoke up. "That hasn't been on the broadcasts."

Luke leaned in close to both men. "I'm Commander Surin Albi, Imperial Intelligence," he said, with his best attempt at an evil grin. Daze blanched. "Don't worry, boys. I'm not out to get you. We're working on tracking down some prisoners that were taken during the battle. My records show there were a couple on your ship, but your commanders haven't been forthcoming about their disposition."

Blarken looked at him with some skepticism, and for a moment Luke lost his confidence, worried he'd overplayed his hand. He could sense Lando behind him, still watching carefully with the blaster concealed within easy reach.

"Kriff," Daze said finally. "They probably don't even know. Our admiral was killed during the attack."

"I know," Luke said, though he hadn't. Keeping his tone even, he said, "That's part of why they sent us in. In case there's been any escapes or defections."

"I really can't help on that front," Daze said. "I know we had some prisoners, but I don't know who they were or what happened to them."

"Are they still on the ship?" Luke asked.

"I don't know."

"Any idea who would?"

"Can't you just go look for yourself?" Blarken snapped, flinching as he saw one of the players on the holo get doubled over by a fierce hit to the midsection.

"To be perfectly honest, no," Luke improvised. "We have a strong suspicion that there may be double agents on board your ship, and we don't want the investigation to become public any earlier than necessary."

"Then why are you telling us?" Blarken pressed him.

"I have a knack for reading people," Luke said, staring the bigger man straight in the eye. "And I know I can trust you."

"Guy named Gabe Irken is who you want to talk to," Daze said. "Friend of mine. He was a guard in the detention level. He's here getting a new leg."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Better than dying, or at least so I've heard." Daze gulped down the last of his beer. "I can bring him around tomorrow if you want to chat with him."

"Sounds good, Daze. Thank you again for your service to our cause."

"Anything for the Empire, Commander."

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"Here's the main kitchen," Morena said, leading Leia into a gleaming room full of pots and pans and lined with stoves and prep surfaces. She leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, "Chef Skiren is in charge. My advice is to keep your head down and do what he tells you, and you'll do fine." Leia nodded.

"Hey, fresh blood!" A perky woman wearing a uniform matching the one Leia had been given, complete with a crisp white cap bounced up to them. "I'm Alba."

"Kim," Leia said, keeping her eyes down. With her hair completely covered she hoped that her face was ordinary enough to escape attention, but she was still more nervous than she'd let on to Han. At least he could hide behind several days' worth of stubble.

"Kim, nice to meet you. I'm the head sous chef. I'll help you get set up, 'kay?"

"Thanks, Alba," Morena said, turning to head out. "I'll try to find you a few more new staff by the end of the week. I know you're still short."

"Kim here looks like a hard worker," Alba said, squeezing Leia's bicep. "I bet she'll keep us in business for a few days."

"Alba! Get your butt in here!" a voice bellowed from behind a giant refrigeration unit.

All perkiness disappearing, Alba scooted away calling, "On my way, chef!" Leia watched her go, then stood back and looked around the kitchen. It seemed desperately understaffed for its size, and she idly wondered how many of the previous workers had called in dead just to get away from the overbearing chef. Spotting some cleaning supplies tucked under a cupboard, she pulled them, doing a quick evaluation of what was there. Winter had showed her once how to mix a common glass cleaner with chemical used for scouring steel cookware to make a concoction that, when boiled for ten minutes, became an tasteless poison capable of felling humanoids within a few seconds of ingestion. The necessary pot cleaner was there, but unfortunately the glass cleaner was nowhere to be seen. Still, a start.

Alba came back as Leia set the bucket of supplies on the counter, rubbing her shoulder. "Now then, let's get you started," she said, her smile returning. "We've got a load of fine dishware that can't go through the autocleaner for tonight's council dinner, and then I'll have you do some ironing. Sound good."

"Of course," Leia responded. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," Alba assured her. "Just a little misunderstanding with the chef." She led the princess to a dishwashing station and handed her a pair of gloves. "Make sure you're careful. This stuff isn't easily replaceable." Leia looked down at the dishware, suppressing a gasp of horror as she realized that it was fine china looted from the now abandoned Alderaani embassy on Coruscant. The pattern included the Organa family seal interspersed with a pattern designed to reflect the jagged mountains that once surrounded her home planet's capital city.

"I will," Leia promised, cringing to think of Imperials eating off dishware that by all rights belonged to her. "I will."

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Another housekeeper dropped by the kitchen to fetch Leia and escort her to her living quarters before the staff dinner as Alba and Skiren put the finishing touches on the night's meal for the council. "I'll be along in a bit," Alba told her as she handed her off. "Big council meeting tonight so we're working late."

Leia kept her head down as she followed the housekeeper—an older woman with tufts of gray hair peeking from under her cap—down a wide carpeted hallway. Suddenly the woman held out her hand, indicating that Leia should stop. They pressed themselves against the wall and bowed their heads—Leia tucking her chin as far into her chest as it would go—as a small parade of Imperial officers walked by. Leia glanced up as they finished passing, noticing that one woman was among the ranks: a tall human with jet black hair highlighted by a single white streak. The Director of Imperial Intelligence, she knew immediately, wondering if perhaps Han was right that they had gotten in over their heads. As the group turned a corner, the housekeeper pressed on again, showing Leia through a locked door into a far less opulent hall.

"Morena said you needed married quarters. This is the best we have left," the woman droned, gesturing Leia into a windowless room with a double sized bed and a small table. "'Fresher is down the hall, women's on the right. Dining room is down past that and around to your left. Can't miss it. See you in an hour."

"Thank you, uh…"

"Nan. Call me Nan."

"Thank you, Nan."

She pulled the door closed behind her, wondering where Han was as she explored the new dwelling. It didn't take long to examine the entire room: the bed was spare but neatly made, and two matching cupboards had room for clothes to hang. The table had a clock and comm unit bolted down, with a lamp beside them. And that was it.

"Knock knock." Leia grinned when she heard Han's voice outside, not realizing how tense she had been. She let him in and closed the door behind, realizing that it had no lock.

"Fancy," he commented, then looked up at the ceiling meaningfully. Leia knew he was looking for any signs that the room was bugged. She shrugged. Without any detectors, they'd just have to assume that their conversations could be overheard.

"Better than nothing," she responded. "At least we have gainful employment."

"Yes, this is a good opportunity," he added, winking. She held back a small smile. Between her access to the food supply and his work in the walls and crawlspaces, this could prove to be a good opportunity indeed. Assuming they ever had a chance to make plans.

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Isard strode in to the already nearly full room, wondering idly if Pestage had told her the wrong time to put her on the spot. She nodded curtly as the men stood to greet her, taking her place at the table.

Of course, whether he knew it or not, his timing was most fortuitous. They had passed some household staff in the hall, with her escorts trained to pay them no mind as they took her to the council dining room. Isard, however, was always on the job, and she noticed that the one maid who was doing her damnedest to tuck her head right back into her body when the Director of Imperial Intelligence passed by bore a striking resemblance to one Princess Leia Organa.


	15. Chapter 15

Isard sipped her water, barely touching the plate of fresh Devaronian land crab risotto that had been placed in front of her. Pestage was arguing with Paltr Carvin about how to deploy the remaining fleet, and she kept her expression neutral as she pondered which of these idiotic men was more likely to drive the Empire into the ground before the end of the year. Carvin wanted to send the fleet to the shipyards at Kuat, both to secure the remaining capital ships that were under repair after the battle at Endor and to keep the Rebels from capturing the construction facilities there. Pestage, ever concerned about saving his own hide, wanted to recall the scattered fleet to Imperial Center to regroup and protect the capital from the Rebel attack he saw as inevitable.

This was the point at which Isard was supposed to let them know that the Rebels weren't going to launch a major campaign to take Imperial Center. Their plans were far more insidious, if poorly executed. But she held her tongue.

It was Leia Organa she had seen in the hall on the way to dinner, she was certain of it. But why would the Rebels send one of their highest ranking leaders on a suicide mission without even the most basic disguise? And how did she manage to infiltrate the palace? Security had gone to hell since Palpatine's death, so Isard allowed that the answer to her second question may simply be that the princess bribed someone to let her in, or found a Rebel sympathizer with access to the council's portion of the monument. But the plan still smacked of a weird desperation for a group that had just scored its biggest victory ever.

If she could free herself from this pointless meeting, she was going to find out more. In the meantime, she would say nothing. The worst that could happen, she mused, was that Organa might successfully assassinate the council. And that would hardly be cause to mourn.

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Leia leaned her head on Han's shoulder, the gentle rise and fall of his body as he breathed lulling her into a comfortable calm. He'd fallen asleep nearly the moment his head hit the pillow, having spent the day climbing in the central power station of the palace with heavy pipes propped on his back to weld into spots weakened by age and neglect. The room was pitch dark and quiet relative to the ships they'd become accustomed to sleeping on, but that hadn't deterred Han. Leia wondered if there was anywhere he wasn't capable of passing out.

She, on the other hand, had grown used to insomnia in the past few years. Being with Han usually relaxed her, but now the solitude was giving her the chance to reflect on their situation, and that was anything but relaxing. She'd had a moment of pure terror earlier when she saw Ysanne Isard pass by, sure the woman would recognize her, but so far she seemed oblivious. Still, the palace had a stain of malevolence about it that she couldn't ignore, as though evil were seeping out of the walls themselves. She told herself that it was just her imagination, spurred on by her memories of being here as a senator in a room with Palpatine and Vader, but it seemed so real. She curled up closer to Han, who mumbled in his sleep and rolled over.

"Leia." With a stifled gasp, she flipped around, reaching under her pillow for the blaster she'd managed to smuggle in. But no stormtrooper stood above her in the darkness. Instead, the same apparition she'd seen in her dream, the kindly looking man with long Jedi robes—the one who claimed to be her biological father—flickered into view.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, once again unsure whether she was awake or asleep. She tried pinching her arm. It hurt, but she still wasn't convinced.

"I came to apologize. I shouldn't have left like that before. It was cowardly of me."

"How so?" She pushed herself up on her elbows as Han snored on.

"You asked me why you and your brother needed protection as children, why you were hidden. I should have told you. You were hidden from me."

"From you? Why?" Leia reached out towards the apparition, wondering if she would be able to touch him. "Because you were a Jedi?"

"No, Leia." The man bowed his head, and it almost appeared as if there were tears in his ghostly eyes. "I was no longer a Jedi when you were born. I….I had apprenticed myself to Palpatine. I'm…I'm sorry."

She stared at him, hearing but not comprehending the words. What kind of dream was this? Finally, she just laughed.

"This is crazy. First I dream that you're my long lost birth father, and now you're saying what…you're the ghost of Darth Vader?"

He said nothing, but simply stood looking at her in the darkness. Finally, he spoke again, the word coming out slowly, painfully. "Yes."

"Yes to which?"

"Yes to both, Leia. I abandoned my family to serve the Emperor and took the name Darth Vader. Your brother saved me, brought me back to my true self."

She backed away as he spoke, pressing up against Han's sleeping form. "There is no way that any of that is possibly true."

"Search your feelings, Leia. The Force is with you—it will show you the truth."

Suddenly she grew angry. "That is complete crap. I don't know who you are, or where you came from, but if you had even the slightest idea what Darth Vader has done to me and my friends, you wouldn't dare spew those lies."

The being before her shimmered, beginning to disappear into the darkness. "Be wary, my daughter. Things are not always as they seem."

"Go to hell," she spat out, flopping back down on the bed and pulling a pillow over her head. "Whatever you are, go to hell."

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Luke woke up, flipping to look at the chrono on the table beside his bed. Across the room, Lando still snored quietly in the darkness of the early morning. The rest of the room was still silent, but Luke felt….troubled. Angry. Confused. Though he wasn't sure why. Finally, realizing he wouldn't get back to sleep, he slipped into the 'fresher unit and turned on the light, figuring he'd take the free time to practice the Jedi meditations that Yoda had drilled into him.

Cross legged on the tile floor, he concentrated on allowing the Force to flow through his body and guide his mind. Soon the room disappeared, a sea of warm fog embracing him as he floated. Then he heard a familiar voice. "If you had even the slightest idea what Darth Vader has done to me and my friends, you wouldn't dare spew those lies….." The voice echoed as if coming across a long distance, and then faded away into the mist.

"Leia!" Luke called out, not realizing he was speaking aloud. "Where are you?"

A knock at the 'fresher door brought him abruptly out of his trance. "Luke? You okay in there?"

He stood, opening the door for Lando. "I'm fine. Just trying to catch a little time for meditation. Hasn't been much opportunity for that lately."

"You were yelling for Leia." Lando looked around the room quizzically.

"I had a vision of her…sort of."

Lando leaned against the doorframe, checking the time and yawning when he realized that dawn was still an hour away. "Did she ever tell you about how we found you when we escaped Cloud City?" Luke shook his head, intrigued. Lando rarely spoke of their first meeting, though it was unclear if his reticence was out of shame from his betrayal of his friends or pain at the loss of his home and livelihood to the Imperials. "Out of nowhere, she says 'I know where Luke is,' and made us turn around. Damned if she didn't fly us right to you. It was eerie."

It made perfect sense to Luke now, of course. He'd cried out in the Force to her, and she—his sister, his twin—had heard him. But he simply smiled at Lando. "The Force works in mysterious ways."

"So what's our plan going to be? I think we should try to shake that ship loose today: makes me nervous just sitting around here without an escape route." Lando stroked his mustache, pondering their situation.

"I want to meet up with my new buddy Daze," Luke told him. "I think he's our best shot right now at finding out what happened to Leia and Han."

"Yeah," said Lando, "But don't you think that whole Imperial Intelligence thing was a little, well, bold? What if the actual Imperial Intelligence shows up?"

"I'll deal with that when it happens," Luke said, his tone a touch cocky.

"In the meantime, I think we should find a way to get onto the Chimaera then." Lando didn't relish the idea of voluntarily putting himself on an Imperial Star Destroyer, but if Han and Leia were being held there, they had no other choice.

"No," Luke responded, surprising him. "There's no reason to do that."

"Why? What if that's where Han and Leia are?"

"They aren't. They aren't in this system at all."

"Then where are they?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Luke said, growing frustrated. "I am not omniscient. I just know they aren't here!"

A rapping on the shared door between their suite and the one housing the Wookiee and the droids let Luke and Lando know that Chewbacca was awake. Lando went over to let him in, then returned to his discussion with Luke. The older man was growing frustrated as well, though he had more experience at hiding his irritation.

"Luke, I respect you," Lando said, looking up at Chewbacca for moral support. The Wookiee listened with interest, but said nothing. "But I don't know that it is a good idea to base our strategy entirely on your feelings about where our friends may or may not be. Have you stopped to consider that maybe your grasp on the Force isn't quite up to this sort of challenge?"

"Why do you doubt him?" Chewbacca rumbled.

"I don't doubt him," Lando said defensively. "I just think it's worth creating some redundancy in the system."

"Like what?" the Wookiee asked.

"Like being prepared to get onto the Chimaera if that's where they're being held." Lando threw his hands in the air. "I don't get why that's such a bad idea."

"It wouldn't be a bad idea if there was a possibility that they were on the Chimaera," Luke said, trying to return to the calm he'd felt during his meditation. "But they aren't."

"Then there is no need to make a plan to board the Star Destroyer," Chewie said firmly. Sighing in defeat, Lando headed for the 'fresher.

"Fine," he said. "I guess I'm outvoted." He slammed the door behind him.

"You must understand, cub," Chewie continued, speaking slowly so Luke could pick out at least some of the words, "Lando is of a generation that saw the Jedi fall. It is hard for some to trust the Jedi implicitly. Han is the same way, even now."

Luke listened closely, trying his best to understand the Wookiee's words. "I get that I can't always expect people to listen to me just because I'm a Jedi," he admitted. "But this is different. I know Leia isn't here."

"Your bond with her is strong," Chewie mused. Luke furrowed his eyebrows at him, not understanding the Wookiee's words. "You love her," he said, more slowly this time.

"Yes." Luke hoped Chewbacca wouldn't take his confession the wrong way. Friends though they were, the Wookiee's loyalty lay with Han. He might not take kindly to the possibility that Luke would try to interfere with the budding relationship between the pilot and the princess. "Chewie, can I tell you something? You have to keep it a secret."

"Of course, cub. What's bothering you?"

"It's not bothering me, exactly," Luke began. "It's about Leia. When I went off to finish my training, I found out that she and I…"

"Yes?"

"She's my sister," Luke said finally. "My twin sister."

Chewie grinned at him, chortling. "That's convenient for Han, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Good for Han," Chewie repeated. "No competition."

This time Luke understood him. "I don't think I ever really was," he said. "They were meant for each other." Then he grew serious again. "But that's part of why we have to find her. I'm supposed to train her as a Jedi as well. So we can rebuild the Order together."

"You may have a hard time convincing her. As I recall, Jedi were not supposed to have relationships. Though I suppose there's no one around to enforce those rules anymore."

Puzzled, Luke shrugged at him, not comprehending the words. Chewie sighed, weighing the benefits of turning Threepio back on to translate. Finally he just patted Luke on the shoulder and opted to enjoy the quiet a moment longer. There would be enough time for discussing Jedi traditions later.

"You and Lando should go and find out if we can get the ship released," Luke said, changing the subject. "I'm supposed to meet with an Imperial who might know what happened to prisoners from the Chimaera, and we should be ready to go as soon as I talk to him."

"What if he doesn't show?" Lando asked, emerging from the 'fresher with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Then I guess we stay," Luke said. "But I want to be prepared to head out the moment we find something. I heard Leia when I was meditating. She was talking to someone, and it sounded like it wasn't someone she found friendly."

"Do you think the Imps still have them in custody?" Lando asked.

"I don't know. They might have escaped. But I don't want to bank on that."

"Okay," Lando said, his early annoyance at the young man melted away by time and a hot shower. "Let's get going then."

A few hours later, Luke sat back at the bar, trying to look nonchalant as he nursed a liquor and juice concoction that seemed designed to dissolve his esophagus. There was no sign yet of Daze or his compatriot, but plenty of other Imperial soldiers milled around. The civilian patrons were much more sparse today, presumably, Luke thought, because of the incident with the drunken man the previous evening.

He turned his attention to the holoscreen, which was tuned to news broadcast with the volume off. Around him the soldiers relaxed and chatted, reminding him of nothing more than the Alliance rank-and-file hanging out in a shipboard mess hall.

"You hear that II is poking around?" he overheard one man behind him say to his two companions, gathered around a low table to drink their morning beer ration.

"You gotta be kriffing kidding me," another growled. "What for? They think we staged this whole thing?"

"Naw, apparently they're trying to track down prisoners."

"And defectors," the third chimed in. "I heard one commander already got arrested."

"For what?"

"Dunno. Just heard it."

"Stang. Who was it?"

"Dunno."

Luke considered giving them a scare by revealing that he—at least as far as they knew—was Imperial Intelligence and had overheard their borderline insubordinate conversation, but opted instead to stay seated. If low ranking Imperial soldiers started questioning the dedication of their government to its more vulnerable servants, that only helped the Alliance cause.

The three eventually got up and left, grumbling about the end of their shore leave, and Luke turned his attention to the holo in front of him. The streaming headlines at the bottom were highly filtered by Imperial censors, so Luke refused to be troubled when reports of a number of previously Alliance-aligned planets declaring allegiance to the Empire scrolled slowly across. He'd just as soon believe that Leia had joined the Imperial Ruling Council as that Mon Calamari decided the Empire was its government of choice.

He sensed someone watching him. His military training kicking in, he didn't react, but rather turned away to check the reflection in the low glass wall separating the bar from the larger lobby. A big man, propped up on crutches, was looking at him and mumbling to a companion. A moment later he shifted and Luke saw that it was Daze.

Eventually Daze and his burly friend walked up, settling in the chairs opposite Luke.

"You're II?" the friend—Gabe, Luke remembered, asked unceremoniously.

"At ease, soldier," Luke responded, sending waves of calm through the Force to counteract the mistrust he could feel pouring off the man. "I'm not here to bust you for anything. Quite the opposite."

"Good," Gabe said, impressively bold for a man facing down an intelligence agent. "Kriffing Rebs blew my leg off. I don't deserve to get any crap from my own side."

"He's still on a lot of painkillers," Daze stammered nervously. "Gabe, no need to be rude."

"Don't kriffing talk to me like that," Gabe snapped at Daze, "Either this guy's gonna arrest me, at which point I intend to give him a piece of my mind, or else he's on our side…" He leaned over to Luke, revealing a gap toothed, yellowing smile. "And he doesn't mind letting an enlisted man blow off a little steam."

From Gabe's breath, Luke could smell that painkillers weren't the only intoxicants in the man's system at the moment. He smiled back. "You go ahead and blow off steam, soldier. Doesn't bother me a bit."

"Good." Gabe snapped his fingers above his head, summoning a service droid. "Gemme another beer. You want anything?" Luke held up his drink, shaking his head.

"Thank you for coming by," Luke began again. "I know you've been through a lot. I was hoping you could tell me about prisoners that were on your ship. We've had a few garbled reports and we're trying to set things straight."

"Yeah," Gabe said, "That's what Daze told me. We were assigned to an outer sector, so we didn't get many. There were just two on my detention level."

"Who were they?" Luke tried to hide his excitement.

"Never did get their names. Man and a woman, both human. Command just told us to keep 'em in the cell and leave 'em alone. Apparently the orders came direct from Darth Vader." He leaned in again and winked at Luke. "Too bad, though. Would have liked a few minutes with the woman. She was a cute one."

Fighting every urge he had to punch the man in the face, Luke continued through half gritted teeth, "Were they on the ship still when you retreated to Kuat?"

"Nah." Gabe turned around as the server droid brought him his drink and took a long draught. "They got taken to a shuttle right before the Rebs showed up. Last I heard was that they were being transferred to the Death Star. So I guess they got what was coming to them, huh?" He cackled, taking another drink.

"What was the shuttle designation?"

"Why do you need to know?" Gabe grew belligerent again. "You don't believe me?"

"I believe you," Luke said honestly, sending calming waves through the Force. "Like I said, we're tracking down defectors. We have some reason to believe that those prisoners may have escaped because of a defector on the shuttle."

"I don't know the exact designation," Gabe said, satisfied with Luke's hasty explanation, "But all the shuttles on Chimaera had the prefix Bandor or Ressen."

Two sets of prefixes, Luke thought despondently. How many damn shuttles did that thing carry?

"But it was a Lambda-class," Gabe added suddenly, "So it must have been either Shuttle Bandorisse or Bandorium."

"Better," Luke said, nodding. "Any idea where they might have ended up?"

"Probably blown to bits over Endor." Gabe suddenly frowned, checking a comlink at his side. "Excuse me for a sec." A moment later, Daze did the same.

"Gotta go," Daze said suddenly as the bulk of the bar patrons began standing and heading off towards turbolifts.

"What's going on?" Luke asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Rebel vessel just entered the system," Daze reported. "They're calling for all hands to report in."

Frowning, Luke tossed a credit chip onto the table and made his way into the lobby. The civilians and staff were still going about their business, unconcerned by the sudden movement of troops. It seemed like an odd reaction to an impending Rebel attack.

One of the desk staff noticed Luke's perplexed look and walked over to talk to him. "No need to worry, sir. I heard it over the comm. It's just a light freighter. One they've been looking for."

"All this for a light freighter?" Luke frowned. There was obviously more to it than anyone was letting on. He needed to find Chewbacca and Lando.

"Yeah," grinned the staffer, clearly relishing the break in routine. "Heard 'em say that they think it could be the Millennium Falcon."

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"You okay?" Han rolled over to hover above Leia as they enjoyed the last few moments before the alarm rang to get them out of bed.

Not knowing how much surveillance was tracking their moves and conversations meant that Leia could hardly divulge the details of the troubling dream, or vision, or whatever it was. Instead she just cuddled close and whispered. "Had a bad dream and didn't sleep much."

Han frowned. "You could have woken me up."

"You needed your rest."

"I'm up now."

"It's all right." She stared at him, hoping he would take her meaning. We can't talk about it here, she added silently.

"Well…." He looked at the chrono. "We've got twenty minutes before we need to get up. Maybe we could find something to do to take your mind off your bad dreams."

Leia blushed mightily. "Here?"

"Why not?"

"I can think of a lot of good reasons," she said sternly, her cheeks still red. "But you have given me an idea."

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Leia and Alba stood shoulder to shoulder, chopping root vegetables for the evening's meal. The sous chef prattled on about her family back on Anaxes, her favorite holofilm actor, and bits and pieces of petty gossip about the other palace staff. The princess was content to stand and listen, her mind still distracted by her bizarre conversation with the supposed Jedi ghost.

"So do you?"

"Hm?" Leia hadn't been paying attention. "Sorry, what's that?"

"You need to get some more rest, babe," Alba said with a laugh. "I said tonight is our monthly night off, and the girls usually all get together and go out. You in?"

"I don't know…" Leia hesitated. Leaving the palace just made it more likely that someone out on the street would recognize her.

"Aw, c'mon. It's fun. Just because you're married doesn't mean you can't have fun, right?"

"Of course not!" Leia said resolutely. "In fact, that reminds me…" She leaned in to whisper to the woman. "My husband and I haven't been…well, intimate, since we got here." Alba gasped dramatically, then giggled as Leia went on, "It's because he's worried that they've got cameras or microphones or something watching the staff."

"That's ridiculous," Alba said, continuing to laugh. "Trust me, those rooms are private." She dropped her voice even lower. "People have gotten away with some impressive stuff in there. There is no way they're bugged." She winked. "So you two are good to go."

"All right then." Leia looked away, her face burning. She'd gotten the information she needed, but there was no way she was going to share the details of her method with Han. He'd never let it go.

"So you'll come with us?" Alba asked cheerily, starting in on another vegetable.

"Um…sure." Leia smiled. It had been so long since she'd hung out for any length of time with a group of women. Maybe this would even be fun. "I'd love to."

"You done yet in there?" bellowed the chef from the other room, interrupting their conversation. A moment later he strode in, brandishing a heavy wooden spoon. Leia looked down at her task, noticing how Alba flinched as he drew closer.

Bastard, Leia thought harshly, remembering how Alba had come in the other day after her confrontation with him rubbing a sore spot on her back. She longed to turn around and give him a piece of her mind, but ruining their mission over one abusive manager was out of the question. Instead, she gritted her teeth as Alba reassured him they were nearly finished.

"Lovely man," Leia murmured quietly after he had left.

"Yeah." Alba's usually bright demeanor faded into a bitter frown. "And they wonder why we can't keep kitchen staff."

Reaching over to give her new friend a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, Leia forgot momentarily about her disturbing vision the night before. Instead, she wondered how she might include Chef Skiren on the growing list of people she intended to kill before leaving Coruscant.

a/n Hey everybody-thanks so much for reading! There is a lot of story left to go, but my updates are going to slow down quite a bit because I'm starting a new full time job. I'll keep up as best I can but don't be alarmed if some time passes before I can turn the next chapters around. - radioboca


	16. Chapter 16

Over the years, Luke had found himself in any number of situations where flinching at a bit of surprise information could be the difference between life and death at the end of an Imperial blaster barrel. It was only his instincts, finely honed during the intense years of war that followed his initial departure from Tatooine, that kept him from reacting when the hotel staffer nonchalantly informed him that Han's ship, which he had believed was safely stored back on Belnar, was currently approaching the system. Reaction or not though, he couldn't just stand there as Imperial pilots poured through the lobby on their way to waiting ships and shuttles. Distracted though they were by injuries and the prospect of an exciting capture, one of them might recognize him and then they would have real trouble.

Stepping briskly backwards into a turbolift, Luke double checked to make sure the doors were closed before pulling out his comlink. "Lando?" he said softly.

"Yeah?" Lando's voice was relatively quiet as well, and the fact that he didn't acknowledge Luke by name tipped off the young Jedi that the other man was in no situation for a confidential conversation. "Can it wait? We're checking in on our, um, ship."

"Not really. I heard they spotted a bird approaching the system." He emphasized the word bird, hoping Lando would understand.

"A what? Oh." Lando's voice flattened. "Hang on." There was a muffled conversation, and then he heard Lando thanking someone. "Meet you at the room in five."

Luke punched in the floor number for their room level, his mind racing. It could be a false alarm, some other unlucky soul in a YT-1300 who was about to get blasted out of the sky for looking like the galaxy's most famous smuggler. For a brief moment he even wondered if Han had somehow gotten away and tracked them to Belnar and then Kuat…but that was preposterous. He couldn't sense Leia, and Han never would have left her behind.

"That bastard!" Lando spat, as Luke entered the code and pushed his way into their shared room. "That Huttslime bastard."

Chewie, who must have been briefed on the situation by Lando as Luke made his way to the room, dropped a few invectives of his own in a tone that made Luke glad he didn't understand Shyriiwook. Aunt Beru might have returned from the dead to wash his ears out just for listening to the curses.

"Care to fill me in?" he asked mildly.

"Esenta," Lando raged. "There's no other explanation. He stole my…" Chewie interrupted with a roar. "Han's ship."

"Are you sure?" Luke had heard little enough information about the supposed Rebel incursion that he was unwilling to take Lando's word on faith. "Maybe it isn't even the Falcon."

"Oh, it is." With a grim look on his face, Lando gestured towards the holoprojector. Luke hadn't even noticed it was on, and focused with interest on the scene before him.

"Turn up the volume," he said, leaning in to get a closer look.

A YT-1300 freighter, with the telltale modifications and scars of the Millennium Falcon, juked inexpertly around a pair of TIE fighters as a reporter breathlessly filled in viewers from the safety of a newsroom. "Moments ago," she intoned, "it was confirmed that the approaching ship is the Millennium Falcon, owned by notorious rebel Han Solo and best known for its role in ambushing a number of government and civilian vessels. The ship has not yet opened fire, but local troops are taking no chances…what's that, Dale?"

The shot shifted to the newsroom, where an attractive blonde had one finger to her ear, listening to a transmission from one of her colleagues in the field. She took the opportunity to flash a broad smile at her viewers, leaning slightly forward to give a better glimpse of her famous décolletage—rumored by many in the industry to be the sole reason she got her current position. "All right, Dale, let's listen in. For those of you just joining us, our senior military analyst Dale Fatillo just reported that the Millennium Falcon is broadcasting a message on an open frequency."

With a slightly bemused smile, Luke cranked up the volume.

"Please!" a voice begged, the accent a curious amalgam of Coruscanti elite and Outer Rim drawl, "I'm not Han Solo. I am Lieutenant Governor Okshir. I was sold this ship by a man on Belnar."

"Told you," Lando said sharply.

"And I am not with the Rebellion. Please do not shoot me!"

The screen flashed back to the anchor, who looked like she was trying to hide a giggle at the man's plight. "Well, Dale, that's not an ideal situation, is it? If you're just joining us, we're following a breaking story…."

Luke switched off the sound, turning back to Lando. "What's the word on our ship?"

"Which one?" Lando replied, reaching across for the remote. With a flick of his finger, Luke sent it sailing across the room to land on a bedside table.

"The one you were trying to shake loose," Luke clarified, "The Juanita."

"They released it. But we can't leave now, not with the Falcon coming in."

"Master Luke!" Threepio burst through the door between the two rooms. "Oh, thank the Maker you're here. Artoo has connected to the hotel's computer and reported that the Millennium Falcon has been captured."

"Thanks, Threepio." The droid was a day late and a credit short, as usual, but Luke didn't have time for him at the moment. "Lando, how soon can we get out of here?"

"Did you not just hear me? We can't leave the Falcon." He turned around, searching for Chewbacca to give him back up. The Wookiee emerged from the 'fresher, grunting inquisitively. "It is the Falcon," Lando told him, "Tell Luke we can't just leave now."

Chewie warbled a response that Luke couldn't understand, but he took his meaning from the dejected look on Lando's face.

"He's going to blame me," Lando said desperately. "When we find him…he's going to kill me."

"At least you're admitting now that we are going to find Han and Leia," Luke said cheerfully.

"Yeah'," Lando agreed dejectedly. "I am."

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A slightly tense conversation with Han later, Leia slipped into a borrowed dress and boots and made her way down to the public entrance to the Imperial Palace to meet Alba and her friends. She had layered on eyeshadow and lipstick—also bequeathed by her new friend—in hopes that she'd fade into the crowds of human women descending on bars to spend their evenings getting smashed and talking about their significant others.

Four other women were standing with Alba in the enormous vestibule waiting for her. She noted with relief that they seemed to be similarly adorned in tight clothes and too much makeup. Alba greeted her with a kiss on each cheek and then introduced "Kim" to her other friends, who were more than willing to absorb a new member into their little clique as though they'd been friends for life.

Han had practically ordered her not to go out, demanding to know exactly what she planned to do if she was recognized or got into some kind of trouble. With a flourish, she jammed her small blaster into her waistband, covering it with her jacket. Her instinct was to pick a fight, but then she looked directly into his eyes. He wasn't trying to undermine her, she could tell. He was genuinely worried.

"We have to try to fit in," she had reassured him, grabbing his shoulders and hoisting herself up for a kiss. Lips interlocked, they lingered for a moment. "I promise, I'll be fine. It's just a quick drink with some girls. Maybe I'll learn something useful."

"Like what?" Han demanded, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Like that these rooms aren't bugged," she reported smugly.

"How did you find that out?" he asked, but Leia simply put her fingers to her lips and smiled seductively.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she had asked with a wink.

She kept quiet, quickening her pace to keep up with the group as they chattered about boyfriends and problems at work. It was early evening, the purple shadows mixing with the neon lights of the local entertainment district to cast disguising shadows on the women. Leia had spent plenty of time here as a Senator, meeting fellow elected officials, lobbyists, and the occasional Rebel operative for a late night drink, but the streets felt alien to her. So many years of being on the run, based on planets ranging from glacial to tropical, had made her unaccustomed to the singular city life that Coruscant offered.

"Kriff." Wirtio, a tall dark skinned woman who worked in the kitchen that served the palace security detail, stopped as they reached a darkened doorway. "Don't tell me they closed Pasulo!"

"Looks like it," Alba said sadly. She turned to Leia. "This place made great namana-tinis."

"And Wirtio had a crush on the bartender," a husky brunette with a single crooked tooth that set off her brilliant smile added with a giggle. Her name was Xioma, Leia remembered.

"Rough luck," Leia noted softly.

Alba shrugged. "I said we should go to the Coronet," she announced. "As usual, I was right!" Leading the way, she plunged off down the sidewalk.

"It's a little creepy how everything keeps closing," Wirtio said to Leia as they walked. "I never thought the Rebellion would actually affect us here, you know?"

A million retorts sprung to Leia's mind, most of them centering on how Coruscant benefited from the Empire's oppression across the galaxy, but she held her tongue. Albeit with difficulty. Changing hearts and minds could come after she killed the members of the Ruling Council.

"Here we are!" Alba said, gesturing towards a doorway. Loud music poured out, a twanging female voice expressing dismay over the faithlessness of her lover to the accompaniment of far more experienced musicians. "And it sounds like open mic night! We may have some fun after all, girls."

"Alba has a thing for Corellians," Wirtio explained as they made their way towards one of the few unoccupied booths.

"I get that," Leia responded with a wink, sending Wirtio into a gale of laughter. Alba waved at the human waiter to come take their drink orders, and Leia settled back, willing herself to relax. The next few hours might just be fun.

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The gym was emptied before her arrival, as Isard had ordered. Unable to convince the Imperial powers-that-be that she needed her own facility, the Intelligence chief had been reduced to clearing out the vast room full of weights, treadmills, and bikes when she was ready for a workout. She eminently preferred to exercise in solitude, and if inconveniencing her inferiors was what it took, then so be it.

Her best strategies were always developed when she used the vast strain on her physical resources to clear her mind. Today, as was the case since her second-in-command confirmed the Emperor's death, her focus was on the future of the Empire. She remained convinced that the current ruling authority was unsustainable. Running the Empire required charisma and vision—something Sate Pestage and his cronies lacked. They couldn't be gotten rid of soon enough.

But the real challenge was finding a way to discredit them in death. That was where the Rebels came in. Unlike her current commanders, who saw the Rebellion as a threat, Isard viewed them—especially Leia Organa—as an opportunity. She simply needed to find a way to leverage Organa's presence in the palace as a means of extending her own powers—which meant, of course, figuring out what the girl had planned.

Isard hated uncertainty. It was a given in her role, but sussing out her enemies plans was her most satisfying accomplishment. She intended to do no less with Organa, but with the added challenge that the princess couldn't be allowed to confirm that she was under surveillance. And more importantly, the Council could not be allowed to discover the Rebel infiltration.

Suddenly, she smiled. An idea had popped into her head. Which was rarely a good omen for anyone but Ysanne Isard.

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Alba had all but insisted on signing up to stand in front of the crowd and sing. It had taken all of Leia's acting skills to convince her colleague that she suffered from paralyzing stage fright. Announcing her presence in front of a crowd, even a drunken one, struck her as the height of foolishness.

A few shots of Corellian whiskey later, Alba had convinced the rest of her companions to join her on stage. Leia settled back into the dark booth, content to watch her new friends make fools of themselves. Alba stood at the front, beginning to belt out the words to a theme song from an old holofilm about a group of women taking revenge on their greedy employer. Leia chuckled slightly at the context. The holofilm, which was older than she was, probably hardly envisioned the Empire as the villain employer.

She left her attention drift around the room, catching snatches of conversation from the surrounding tables. The men next to them were celebrating a pending wedding, and Leia made special note to keep Alba away from them as the night wore on. She seemed exactly the type to go home with a prospective groom. On the other side, a pair of older couples was reminiscing about their days at university.

"Thank you for coming," she heard a smooth voice say. "Yes, I'm the owner. I do hope you're enjoying yourself."

She froze, not wanting to reveal herself by turning, but the voice sounded familiar. And not in a good way.

"A round for the table on me, gentlemen! Who is the lucky man?" The bachelors at the next booth roared their approval as Leia began to stand, ostensibly to search for a 'fresher.

"Hello." Too late. She looked up as the man reached her table, grimly confirming that it was indeed Wa-Janar. He looked her up and down lustily. "I think you still owe me a dance."

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Imperial Palace or no, Han Solo wasn't willing to sit alone in his bedroom on a night off. He emerged into the dormitory style hallway, following the sounds of chatter into a common room. There, he noted with a smile, the card games had already begun.

"Tocal Pandall," he said amiably, offering a hand to the unfamiliar young men and pulling some credits out of his pocket. "Deal me in?"

An hour later, Han was up 200 credits and his three companions were dead drunk. They had a contraband-looking bottle of cheap Alsakan brandy that they passed around surreptitiously as though they expected the late Emperor himself to appear at the door. Han took a few sips but mostly used the opportunity to relieve the men of their hard earned wages. And, as he smugly intended to inform Leia later, information.

Karl had been working in the Palace for only a few months, shifting between the powerhouse that keep electricity flowing through the residence and the security offices. A tech expert, he was unimpressed with the level of security in the building since the Emperor's demise—a point Han noted with some bemusement. He did make a point of remembering Karl's offhand comment that the security control rooms only had one checkpoint to get in from inside the Palace: a fact that Karl noted with professional disdain.

Joern approached his position with a bit more respect, in part because he'd been around long enough to have second and third hand contact with Palpatine. Frankly, the Emperor scared the crap out of him, and he'd learned early on to keep his head down and not ask questions. That habit continued now that Sate Pestage and his colleagues were running things, and Joern didn't anticipate ever changing his approach. His reticence to draw attention to himself was driven in part by the wife and twin daughters he supported back on Esseles. Han filed that bit of information as well.

"Well, gentlemen," Han said, standing up. Joern and Karl tried to emulate him, but collapsed back into their chairs. "It's been a pleasure."

He checked the chrono as he wandered back to the room. It was nearly time that Leia would be back, and he pondered whether he might be able to convince her to take advantage of the lack of bugs in their room. A slight smile crept onto his face as he approached their door. Then, suddenly, he frowned.

The door was cracked open. Someone had been inside. And as he gently pushed open the door, he saw that it was ominously empty.


	17. Chapter 17

Whistling as though he hadn't a care in the galaxy, Han strolled off towards the communal men's 'fresher room. The hallway was empty and he slipped into the room fully ready to do his business if he found he wasn't alone. But a quick check of the stalls and showers showed the 'fresher was deserted, and Han quickly locked the door, hoping no one would feel the call of nature while he tried to locate Leia.

They had been issued comlinks as part of their work, and warned multiple times to only use them for official purposes. Han had trouble imagining what a kitchen staffer and a maintenance man would possibly need comlinks for, but he wasn't one to look a gift dewback in the mouth. Of course, they both presumed that any communications might be monitored, but it was still a comfort to have some way to get in touch with each other.

Punching in Leia's code, with which he'd impressed her by memorizing minutes after they were issued the devices, Han held his breath. He was annoyed when she insisted on going out, convinced that she was subconsciously more interested in getting a taste of normal female friendship-beyond her rare rendezvous with Winter-than actually digging for information. Now he was starting to worry that he had been right to be concerned.

Relax, he told himself sternly as he waited for her to respond. She's not due back yet, and there wasn't any evidence that someone had done anything more than accidentally pop open their bedroom door. But he wasn't someone to ignore his instincts, and his instincts told him that there was trouble brewing. As the comlink continued to beep without an answer, Han muttered, "I have a bad feeling about this."

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Stonefaced, Leia stared up at her new friends on the stage as Wa-Janar slid into the booth next to her. Two of his interchangeable toughs stood on either of the U-shaped table, blocking her exits. His hand crept over to rest on her thigh. Hardly moving her upper body, Leia shoved him off, digging a sharp nail into the back of his hand.

Wa-Janar only chuckled, leaning over and breathing into her ear, "You owe me a new man too. Do you have any idea how long it takes to train good bodyguards?"

"Clearly not that good," Leia responded flatly. "A good bodyguard wouldn't let himself get beat up by a girl."

He chuckled dryly at her comment. "That's true. But you aren't just any girl….princess."

She blinked, not allowing any reaction at his confirmation of her identity. On stage, Alba had resisted the emcee's efforts to get her to relinquish the microphone and was launching into another song. "What do you want?"

Smiling, Wa-Janar grabbed her hand tightly again. This time, Leia allowed him to hold on, pretending to struggle only enough to keep him away from the small blaster tucked into her waistband. "We'll start with a dance. I'm sure I'll have some ideas from there."

"All right," Leia said abruptly. She yanked Wa-Janar towards edge of the booth. "Let's dance."

Wrinkling his brow, Wa-Janar laughed again. "You mistake my meaning…"

"What's the matter, big guy?" she taunted, running into one of the toughs as she edged out of the booth. "You worried you can't handle me?" She reached up to push gently against the mountain sized man blocking her exit. "'Scuse us."

"I am not sure what your game is, princess…" Wa-Janar began as the bodyguard continued to block her path.

Trying another tactic, Leia turned back to him with pursed lips. "I bet you'll want to find out though." She leaned over, trying not to gag as she gave him a tiny glimpse down her shirt. "Come on, let's dance."

As Leia had learned from her early teen years, logic tended to fly out the window when one dealt with men in a particular manner. Wa-Janar was no different, and her obviously fake come-ons worked like a dream. It never failed to amaze her how easy it could be sometimes to manipulate men…for example, she thought wryly, by kissing Luke to get at Han. Amazing how that worked.

"We'll dance then," Wa-Janar announced, sending the bodyguard back with a gesture. He kept a tight grip on Leia, not trusting her that much, and led her to the dance floor. "I recommend you not try anything funny."

Alba and the rest of the women continued to warble, oblivious to Leia's plight. She held her tongue and focused on stiffening her arms enough to keep Wa-Janar from pressing his body against her: partly because the idea nauseated her, and partly because she didn't want him to discover either the blaster or the comlink she had hidden in her clothes. A comlink that she prayed would start buzzing any moment.

The emcee finally convinced the group of singers to leave the stage with the promise of free drinks at the bar, and a pair of professionals took over. Corellian music was distinctive—twangy and upbeat with themes ranging from women to fighting to drinking to fighting and drinking with women. Growing up, it had never been to Leia's taste, but she'd started to find a comfortable familiarity in the tunes that Han blasted in an attempt to annoy her on the Falcon. Had she not been frantically trying to run through plans for escape from a minor crime lord intent on blackmailing her into indentured servitude, she might have even enjoyed the band.

"I imagine you never thought I'd figure out exactly who you were," Wa-Janar said smugly, speaking just loudly enough so she could hear him over the music.

"I was shocked that it took you so long," she retorted. "You must not have a lot of time for holonews."

He ignored her jab. "I'd been intending to put a bounty out for whomever had killed my man," he continued, "But when I found the picture of you from our security camera that I wanted to use, I found that you looked remarkably familiar. It didn't take long after that."

"And by that you mean that the counter staff at the copy shop you visited to print up posters recognized me?" Leia asked with a smirk. She wasn't expecting the look of fury that crossed Wa-Janar's face. "I was just teasing. You mean that's what really happened?"

Moving his hands to her shoulders, Wa-Janar squeezed tightly, eliciting a tiny yelp of pain from the princess. "I recommend you reconsider your situation. The only reason I didn't put a price on your head was because I couldn't afford to compete with the Empire. I may decide that I'm better off with a million credits instead of a new dancing girl."

Glancing over his shoulder, Leia could see more patrons pouring into the room, filling the path between her and the door. Her companions were nowhere to be seen, lured away by the prospect of more drinks. Another song started, and she began to weigh the merits of simply trying her luck at decking him and running. Then, she felt a vibration. Her comlink was buzzing.

The band was blasting an old Corellian standard, and Wa-Janar took Leia's sudden silence for acquiescence. He pulled her into towards him, giving her a split second opportunity to activate her comlink.

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Han let out a long breath as he heard the telltale click of a response on the other end of the comlink. "Kim?" he whispered, not wanting any passersby in the hall to hear him. "You there?"

He was rewarded with a blast of sound in his ear that coalesced into a familiar melody. It was slightly muffled, but he could hear clearly enough to know that where ever Leia was, a live band was playing Corellian music. He strained to hear more as the song came to an end.

"Thank y'all for coming tonight," a voice said, tinny with distance and amplification. "We love playing this sector, and damnit if the Coronet ain't the best kriffin' spot for a drink on Imperial Center."

The Coronet. Han had heard some of the guys—two of whom were Corellian by birth-in the machine shop talking about the Corellian bar, and he'd made up an excuse to ask for the address. Good Corellian places were few and far between off his homeworld, and he wanted to keep the info about a place for a good ale and nerf burger in his back pocket in case he and Leia actually survived this little misadventure. It was in the Palace district, not far away, and before he could even holler at the person who was suddenly hammering at the locked 'fresher door, demanding to be let in, he was off. He'd figure out a plan on the way.

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Luke walked purposefully ahead of his companions towards the docking area as the flow of Imperial troops dwindled. The bulk of the personnel taking shore leave on this part of the orbital station must have already reported for duty—an impression mobilization even for the Millennium Falcon. Only a few stragglers, some of them missing limbs, continued to pass by.

"Sir!" Luke looked up, sensing that the salutation had been directed at him. Indeed, Daze, the Imperial soldier who'd been so unknowingly helpful in getting him information on Han and Leia's last known whereabouts, was standing at attention and watching as Luke made his way down the corridor. "Commander Albi!"

"What can I do for you, soldier?" Luke asked, leaning in close. "Keep in mind that I'm here on a semi-covert mission."

Daze reddened slightly. "Yessir. My apologies. We got an order that some of the command staff were out of reach when the order to report came through, and I assumed you might be one of them."

"Not a problem, soldier. What's this about command staff being out of reach?" Luke's curiosity was piqued enough that he was willing to delay their retreat…for the moment, at least.

"I don't have any details, sir. We were just ordered to round up anyone who didn't respond to the all hands hail."

"Including intelligence officers?"

"I don't know, sir," Daze told him, looking over his shoulder. "I suppose not."

Luke could sense Lando, Chewbacca, and the two droids watching him quizzically, and thanked the Force that Daze hadn't yet figured out that the odd looking group was part of his entourage. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and focusing on letting the warm energy flow around him, guiding his words and actions.

"I guess I had better report with you then, soldier," he said, the words out of his mouth before he hardly even realized what happened. He turned to Chewie and gave a nearly imperceptible nod in the direction of their borrowed ship, hoping his friend would understand his meaning. Go.

Without another word, Luke turned and followed Daze, leaving his friends gaping behind him.

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After a few more songs, Wa-Janar had gripped Leia around the arm and led her back to the booth. He held her close enough to his body to disguise the strength of his hold on her, even pausing to greet a few tables full of customers as he escorted his captive into the main part of the restaurant. She let her free arm bump her blaster a few times, reassuring herself that it was still there as she waited for a good opportunity.

Allowing her eyes to wander towards the door, she wondered whether Han had been able to glean any information from the open comlink when he contacted her. She had no doubt the call was from him, and hoped the raucous music was enough to give him a clue as to her whereabouts. Of course, as far as she knew, he had no reason to think she was in particular danger. In fact, she realized despairingly, there was a decent chance he had assumed that she'd merely accidentally activated her comlink with her rear end while tumbling around at the bar. He was probably planning to tease her about it when she got back to their room tonight.

Glumly, she resigned herself to having to shoot her way out of this mess, either in the middle of the crowded bar (bad) or while isolated in some godsforsaken spot with Wa-Janar and his cronies (worse). She looked up to evaluate the size of her adversaries, pondering whether she'd be able to take them out quietly enough to avoid any uncomfortable questions from Alba and her friends when they sobered up.

Just then, her attention was drawn to the bar lining the side of the room. A loud giggle echoed over the music, followed by a familiar—albeit alcohol-soaked voice—blurting out, "holy hells, you are HOT."

Distracted from her own dire straights, Leia glanced over to see which unlucky soul had fallen into Alba's inebriated attentions. The man turned around, clearly trying to find a way to detach himself from his new admirer, and caught Leia's eye. It was Han.

He flashed a grin, which faded into a frown a nanosecond later when he noticed the two men standing guard at either end of Leia's booth. It didn't take long for him to search around the room and locate Wa-Janar, who stepped away to attend to some host duties while Leia seethed under the watchful eyes of her guards. She nodded slightly to let him know she was unharmed—for the moment—and then braced herself for action. This was Han Solo she was dealing with. He was about to do something bold, and stupid. She was only left to wonder exactly what.

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He'd come in fully ready for a fight with Imps. The bar was authentically Corellian, right down to the barely controlled crowds, but on Coruscant anything was possible. He had sidled up to the bar preparing for an ambush, but the attack that came was beyond anything he expected.

"Helllooooo," a female voice, attempting to be sultry but coming off as merely drunk, said as a pair of hands wrapped around his waist. "You looking for somebody to spend a little free time with?"

"Sorry, lady," Han said, removing the pretty blonde's hands before they made their way into more intimate territory. "You're not my type. I prefer short brunettes."

"I can…" she paused to hiccup, "Dye my hair. If that's what you really want."

"You can do better," he assured her, trying to push her away without knocking her over. "I'm lookin' for somebody."

Wrong line. "Somebody's right here." She pressed towards him, aiming her breasts right for his midsection.

Deftly stepping away, Han turned towards the woman's two friends, who were watching and laughing at their companion's antics. "Ladies, I think your friend has had a few too many. Better take her home before she gets into trouble."

The blonde pitched herself at Han. "No trouble. Holy hells, you are HOT!"

In desperation, Han ducked away again, his eyes scanning the room. He felt someone watching him carefully, and peered at a booth partly hidden in the shadows in the center of the room. Leia!

A moment later, his heart sank. She was flanked by two enormous men dressed all in black. They were devastatingly familiar. A quick glance over towards the pulsing crowd confirmed his suspicions. They had walked right into Wa-Janar's hand.

Leia looked okay at the moment, but that didn't mean she would stay that way. Glancing around, Han assessed his situation. He wasn't armed, so he couldn't go in guns blazing. But maybe he could stage a diversion….

A slick looking guy who, unfortunately for him, resembled a rival smuggler that Han detested from his years working for Jabba was chattering about his recent feminine conquests to two equally slimy companions near the bar. Han decided he probably deserved what was about to happen next.

Subtly, he grabbed the drunken blonde woman's arm and guided her towards Slick, giving her a quick shove at the last minute that sent her sprawling into the man's arms. As he expected, Slick saw this turn of events as a sign from the gods and immediately began feeling up his new lady friend.

Han waited two beats, then strode up to the little group, fists clenched.

"What the kriff are you doin' to my girl?" he yelled, landing a punch that accelerated Slick into a crowd that looked like they just got off working the night shift at the Coruscant Facility for the Criminally Insane.

The bar advertised itself as an authentic Corellian experience. A few moments later, that claim proved itself to be true as bottles were smashed, jackets were removed, and the crowd erupted into a good old fashioned Corellian style bar brawl.

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Leia knew what was coming from the moment she saw Han grab Alba and shove her into the equally inebriated men. Grabbing her blaster, she slid feet first under the table as the first hollers of rage rang out from the patrons near the bar, firing a few painful shots into the feet of the two bodyguards as she slipped away towards Han. The room was packed, and for a moment she lost sight of him. Then he appeared out of the mess of beings and grabbed her hand, tugging her into the melee.

"What are you doing? We have to get out of here!" she shouted, ducking as a portion of a bar stool went flying perilously close to her head.

"He's gonna have people looking for you at the front door," Han shouted back. "C'mon, I know another way."

"What about the women I came with?" Leia asked. "We can't just leave them!"

Frustrated, Han turned around to face her, elbowing someone in the face as they flew towards him to throw an indiscriminate punch. "If we wait to find them, Wa-Janar is going to find you. We have to get back to the Palace. They'll be fine." He continued to pull her forward, ramming himself against the seething mass of bodies.

Sighing, Leia followed. They would be likely be fine, she knew, especially since they were so dead drunk that they'd probably just pass out and wait for security forces to clear out the fight. But the brawl never would have started but for her, and she felt guilty for simply abandoning them.

Without warning, another hand reached out and gripped her free arm. Her forward momentum nearly sent her falling to the floor. Heading forward, Han momentarily lost his hold on her. In the seconds it took him to fight his way back to Leia's side, he saw her struggling to free herself yet again from Wa-Janar.

"I don't think so, princess," he began, reaching out to pull her towards his body. But Leia was ready for him this time. Her blaster still in hand, she swung it around, smacking him across the face and letting the metal smash into his nose. He cried out, and she brought up her knee into his groin. He dropped to the floor with a moan. She aimed the blaster, planning to fire, when she saw several of his bodyguards advancing on their position.

"Let's get the hell out of here," she said to Han, urging him forward. Needing no other motivation, he lead them out the back into the cool of the night air.


	18. Chapter 18

"I anticipate that attack could come as soon as the next several days." Isard leaned over the round conference table, taking a moment to stare into each of the councilor's eyes. She lingered over Sate Pestage, pressing her lips together into a thin grimace. "Though unfortunately the details remain unclear. In spite of their success in assassinating the Emperor, my sources report that the Rebels remain intent on improvisation."

Standing up, she let her words sink in. Most of the group gave her a bland stare, still unwilling after everything that had happened to admit their trepidation in front of a woman. Pestage, however, mimicked Isard's tight lipped sneer. At least one of these fools had a healthy respect for his mortality.

Of course, respect didn't translate to insight into the true threats that had their sights on his life. Such as, for example, Ysanne Isard.

"Your recommendations, Madam Director?" Pestage asked, drawing a derisive cough from somewhere around the table.

Isard allowed a small smile. "As I mentioned, the Rebels are planning to jump into close range of the system with at least four capital ships. They believe that the ion cannon mounted on one of their alien cruisers will disable the local shield array, leaving the palace vulnerable to a bombardment."

"Cowards," Ars Dangor spat. Isard ignored him.

"I recommend a two pronged approach that will simultaneous protect you from attack and draw a significant portion of the Rebel fleet into an indefensible position. Several of our own capital ships are nearly ready to leave dry dock at Kuat and would have adequate capabilities to take out Rebel ships in an ambush."

"And how do you propose to pull them into an ambush?" Pestage asked, turning critical. "If they make a sudden jump into this system, we would be unable to destroy their ships without collateral damage on our side."

"That's why it won't be in this system," Isard told him. "We will convince the Rebels that you all have become aware of their plot and relocated to a remote system. When they send some of their fleet to destroy you, we will attack."

Several of the men gave her skeptical looks. She paid them no mind. Their respect for her military planning capabilities was about to become obsolete. She just needed Pestage to buy in.

"And you believe this will work? I am uncomfortable risking our entire government to this venture."

"Of course," Isard said smoothly. "We will also add to our defenses here. No one but the members of this council or your staff will be able to access this august body."

Pestage assented with a nod. "Carry on then, Madam Director."

"As you command." She bowed deeply and stepped briskly out of the room. Two red robed guards gestured her out and then pulled the door shut behind her with a decisive thump. She ignored them.

Keeping a grim look on her face, Isard continued down the hall towards the turbolift, letting her gaze drift from side to side at the palace staff who hustled quietly down the corridors carrying datapads or serving dishes. She had hoped to spot the Rebel princess again, who had unwittingly become key to Isard's plan to become the newest ruler of the Empire. Though she didn't want to startle her into action too quickly. That could be a disaster, especially since she was in the unusually frustrating position of having no idea what the girl was plotting.

Her quick search of the Princess's dormitory gave her little knowledge of value, but for the fact that she was sharing it with a man. She'd assumed it was likely one of Organa's regular associates, but hadn't gotten a good glimpse as he disappeared down the hall. There had been no sign of either Luke Skywalker or Han Solo since the tragedy at Endor, so either was a distinct possibility. But beyond knowing that she had an accomplice, Isard hadn't found anything indicating that they were placing beacons or bombs or anything else that one might expect from undercover operatives. That left direct assassination—Isard's working hypothesis.

That was all well and good, so long as it left the council dead. Once they were dealt with, she would kill the princess and her consort, and then place blame for the murder of the council on a mysterious and yet-unidentified internal assailant. Declaring an emergency with a planet-wide blockade was the next step. Then it was simply a matter of pinning the killings on a high ranking Imperial Navy official—she hadn't decided who yet, but that would come—and accusing the military of an attempted coup. Her ascent to leader….no, Empress…would practically be demanded by the war weary populace.

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"Ha…Tocal!" Leia caught herself before accidentally shouting out Han's name in the murky, crowded night. Still keeping a tight grasp on her hand, he strode down the street, weaving past humans that were bumbling from nightclub to nightclub. In spite of her protests he showed little sign of slowing down.

Finally they turned a corner and he pulled her into a boarded up doorway. "We're getting out of here," he growled.

"Why? Because of Wa-Janar?" Leia snapped. "That's ridiculous."

"No, because the Imps are onto us."

"What makes you think that?" Leia demanded. "Why now? If they didn't recognize us when we first got here."

"I don't feel much like speculating right now," he told her firmly. "Someone was in our room tonight, and I don't think it was because they wanted to borrow a cup of sugar."

Leia's eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"

"Door was open."

"Give me a break. You really think the Imps would have snuck in and left the door open?"

"I told you," he said, poking a finger in her face, "I am not in a mood for speculating. Someone was in there and we are not going back."

"I am not giving up this opportunity that easily," Leia retorted hotly.

"You're going to get yourself killed?"

"So what if I do? As long as I take them with me…."

Holding her by the shoulders, Han sighed deeply, reminding himself that he'd known she was an idealist when he first made his moves on her. Between her and the kid, the crazy was rubbing off.

Mistaking his silence for a refusal to debate further, Leia continued her speech. "I deserve this chance. The Empire took everything from me, and this is my one chance to take everything back from them. With the ruling council gone, the Alliance can take Coruscant…"

"Okay, okay." A good soldier knew when to retreat. "But we're at least going to get our strategy mapped out before we go back tonight. I've finished mapping the crawlspaces and I'm getting sick of mucking my way through Imperial pipes every day waiting for some real action."

"Of course!" Leia's voice was chipper again. "Let's find somewhere we can talk."

"What about here?" Han asked with a shrug. The doorway was dark, and the buzz of the nearby crowds drowned out any voices.

With a particularly royal twitch of her nose, Leia shook her head. "I was thinking maybe somewhere that smelled less like bodily fluids. There must be a tea house around here somewhere. I have money…"

"Me too." Leia gave him a questioning look. "Some guys back at the palace have an inflated sense of their skills at sabaac." She chuckled. "Your girlfriends aren't going to wonder where you went?"

"They were so drunk I'll be shocked if they can find their way back to the palace," Leia scoffed. "Now, let's start planning, flyboy."

"After you, your highnessness."

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A/n Hey everybody—I haven't disappeared. It's just that between the demanding new job and my preschooler I've been way too tired to write recently. Hoping to do more shortly, but I hope this tides you over in the meantime. (Also, ladypeter—thanks for your note! I'm good….just need a few more hours in the day!) RB


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